


Seven Trumpets.

by Kitty_Kinneas



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Epic Battles, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Science, Stark Tower, Villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:54:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitty_Kinneas/pseuds/Kitty_Kinneas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's said that all mythology begins with some grain of truth.</p><p>When mythological creatures begin appearing on Earth, there is no one to combat them but the Avengers. But even they are poorly armed when it comes to facing creatures of myth and legend.</p><p>(Started before Iron Man 3, Thor: The Dark World and Captain America: The Winter Soldier, so takes none of this canon into consideration.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Foresight of A Stark.

_Rocha, Uruguay. 3:27am, Thursday morning._

 

The sound of the machines was so regular, Xander often found himself lulled into a hypnotic doze where he wasn't asleep, but nor was he really awake. He'd been playing World of Warcraft, but they'd stopped raiding hours ago and he was already a bazillionaire from all the farming he'd been doing.

 

Now he was seeing if he could balance his chair on one leg, blue and red checked Chucks pressed to the edge of a whirring machine whose tone had never changed in the entire year he'd worked here. By all accounts, not one of the machines had changed for the entire five years the underground monitoring station had been operating.

 

He was sure he'd been exiled here, despite the public apology he'd made...

 

He eventually succeeded in balancing the chair on one spindly leg, and never even tipped over once. He bounced a rubber ball off the wall above the machine, eyes lidded.

 

Get a degree in science, they said. Specialise in climate and disasters, they said. You'll end up famous, they said.

 

Right.

 

He was stuck down in South America, where it was raining half the time, and blowing a howling gale the other half. Where storms rolled in every five minutes, and ruined the fact that the temperature was pretty good. On top of that, he was underground. On top of _that_ , it was three in the morning and he wasn't in bed.

 

He let the machines lull him, knowing time passed at at least a little more than a snail's crawl when he was zoned out. He barely moved, perfectly balanced, the ball resting on his stomach. And he wondered, not for the first time, why Stark Industries had even bothered with this place.

 

Then, quite suddenly, the chair leg snapped and he fell, one of the machines blaring a quick, abrupt squeal in stark contrast to its usual regular _boop, boop, boop_.

 

His empty coffee mug rattled a little on the rickety desk.

 

Xander picked himself up from the ruins of the chair, pushing his glasses up his long nose, and peered at the splintered wood like it was possessed. Then he turned the same look on the machine.

 

“Wait... that...” he said slowly to himself, crossing the cramped space to the machine.

 

It was a Seismometer, which slowly spewed forth a constant stream of grid-marked paper upon which was a line as straight as an arrow, caused by the unmoving needle within.

 

But, sure enough, just a little way out of the machine was a spike, a bump that would have been considered nothing on the San Andreas Fault Line, but which here in Uruguay, on the very solid middle area of the South American Plate made Xander's pale brows lift in shock.

 

“No freakin' way,” he muttered, pushing his green fringe back. “How-”

 

If he said any more, and if anyone had been there to hear it, it would have been drowned out by the sudden blare of the Seismometer and every other machine that measured such shifting of the earth and seabed. Not to mention the deep rumble which set crockery and aluminium and light fittings to mad shaking.

 

Xander's eyes went wide as the seismometer spat out a new jagged line, registering higher and higher on the Richter Scale with each passing second.

 

His mug fell off the desk and smashed, followed by a bulb from one of the swinging lights. He might have been more panicked if he didn't know the construction of this bunker and how impervious it was to such geological phenomena.

 

Not to say that he wasn't panicking at all, because he was, his heart hammering in his chest and his breathing so ragged he knew the only reason he couldn't hear it was because of the machines and the rumbling – which was growing.

 

Six, the spiking line touched, then higher to seven and edging towards eight, and Xander began shaking his head.

 

“Impossible...” he whispered. “It's just not...”

 

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the earthquake ended. The machines resumed their normal humming, as though it had never happened and, if it weren't for the smashed mug and light bulb, Xander might have thought he'd been dreaming.

 

He stared for a moment longer at the record the seismometer had made.

 

“Holy Mother of-” he bit out suddenly and whirled, shoes squeaking on polished concrete. He fell over the remains of the chair and narrowly missed cracking his head on the desk, then when he stood, his labcoat was caught under his shoe so he fell again.

 

“Fuck, bugger, shit, fuck,” he spat, and managed to stand, lunging for the phone.

 

He knew there was only one button he needed to hit.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Stark Tower, New York. 2:39 am, Thursday morning._

 

Pepper had been asleep for hours, but Tony was restless, despite the drink and company... and everything else they'd gotten up to. He'd been making adjustments to his suit. Some idiot with a grudge against the military had paraded two high-powered tanks down Main Street last week, and it had taken quite a beating. He'd used the damage as an excuse to install a fire extinguisher... because who didn't need one of those in their flying bodysuit?

 

However, he was taking a break, out on the balcony of Stark Tower, a glass of red in one hand.

 

Restlessness had been a constant companion over the last year and a half since they'd closed the portal and Thor and Loki had gone home. If he was willing to admit it to himself (and dammit, he just _wasn't_ willing) he knew he missed the others.

 

There was a fine line to walk between doing what needed to be done and maintaining public opinion to a point where they didn't want to run him out of New York. No one understood that as well as Bruce, Steve, Natasha and Clint. Even Thor and Loki – or perhaps especially Thor and Loki, being gods and all.

 

He was starting to understand why comic-book heroes like Superman kept their identities a secret...

 

New York never slept and, for Tony, that was a good thing. He had plenty to watch, the lights of the traffic a patterned familiarity that helped quiet his never-still mind at least a little. He doubted even his Avenger counterparts could fathom how constant the ticking of his mind was, though maybe Bruce had some idea.

 

The phone in his pocket blared so suddenly and so incongruously to the relative silence of the balcony that he jumped and dropped the wine glass, splattering the hundred-year-old merlot in a graceful arc across the flagstones.

 

He swore, hopping out of the way of glass and wine on bare feet and fishing the phone out of his pocket.

 

“This better be g-” he started to growl, but the voice on the other end overrode him.

 

“ _...bsolutely amazing, sir! Eight-point-fucking-seven, Mr. Stark. Here. Uruguay. Enough to shake down buildings and break bitumen. I can't believe it!”_

 

That was the end of Tony's patience and he snapped;

 

“Shut up for a minute!”

 

The other end went apologetically silent.

 

“Now. In a calm voice, explain to me what you're blabbing on about.”

 

The boy did, and with each word, Tony's face grew grimmer.

 

Tony Stark did nothing without good reason, and the monitoring station beneath Rocha was no exception. Now it seemed his investment had paid off... in a manner of speaking.

 

“What did you say your name was?” he asked the voice when it petered to a stop.

 

“ _Xander. Xander Stone.”_

 

“Well, Mr. Stone, I suggest you get the hell out of there, because it's going to get ugly,” he said, and hung up.

 

Then he was running back along the balcony, inside, up and around to the second exit from he building.

 

“Jarvis,” he said, and the floor whirred to life, equipping him in his suit as he strode out. He leapt up into the warm night.

 

“Jarvis, give me seismic read-outs across the globe for the last hour,” Tony said calmly as he flew. “Also, am I going the right way?”

 

“ _Yes, sir,”_ Jarvis replied, flashing up a map for him to follow. _“Generally speaking.”_

 

Tony adjusted his flightpath a little and turned his attention to the seismic information Jarvis was compiling for him. Sure enough, there it was.

 

Tony whistled lowly.

 

“What do you know? That Stone kid was right. An eight-point-fucking-seven, right off the coast of Uruguay. I wonder which one it is.”

 

Jarvis was silent a moment then;

 

“ _Probability indicates the Kraken.”_

 

“Kraken?” Tony echoed.

 

“ _Kraken are legendary sea monsters of giant proportions said to dwell off the coasts of Norway and Greenland. In modern German, Krake means octopus but can also refer to the legendary Kraken. In Norwegian, Kraken is the definite form of krake, a word that can refer to the legendary creature (can also mean "frail, poor being", or "crooked, withered tree")._

 

_Although fictional and the subject of myth, the legend of the Kraken continues to the present day, with numerous references existing in popular culture, including film, literature, television, video games and other miscellaneous examples (e.g. postage stamps, a rollercoaster ride and a rum product).”_

 

“Rum? Well. This just got a whole lot better. Where did you get all that from?”

 

“ _Wikipedia.”_

 

“Wiki... you know that's not always trustworthy, don't you?”

 

“ _Yes, sir, of course, but most of humankind believes the Kraken a myth, so where else do you suppose I should get the information?”_

 

“Point taken,” Tony agreed with a smirk. “Still, you have to agree I was right to drop those monitoring stations around the suspected locations.”

 

“ _I never disagreed, sir.”_

 

“No, of course not,” Tony muttered, and kicked his suit into overdrive.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Rocha, Uruguay. 4:41am Thursday morning._

 

The city was a mess. Buildings here weren't constructed with the earthquake-proofing necessary in cities closer to the edges of the plates, so many of them were little more than rubble. People screamed and cried, fires burned, car alarms blared, and there were still explosions going off.

 

But, as bad as it was, Tony knew it was only going to get worse if he stopped to help, so he flew over the devastation and out to the boiling ocean. It should have long-since settled from the disturbance caused by the earthquake, but it frothed and churned in a localised patch, getting worse by the second.

 

“Jarvis, get me a reading on-”

 

A massive tentacle, crusted with coral, barnacles and all manner of weird crustaceans, flicked up out of the ocean, spraying salted water (and a couple of flailing crabs) in an arc before it. Another appeared and another, lashing about and sending up jets of water each time they struck the surface.

 

Suddenly, they all sucked back under and, for a heartbeat, the water was calm (relatively speaking). Then a giant, squid-like, mottled purple, blue and black head burst from the water, rising meters and meters and meters until finally two beady eyes appeared at its base.

 

“Holy...” Tony whispered, and that was about all he could manage. He'd researched these things, but he hadn't quite expected this.

 

“ _Well,”_ Jarvis remarked with infuriating nonchalance for a computer. _“They are legendary.”_

 

Tony sneered at him and dipped from a hover into a dive, hoping to get a clear shot at where he hoped what passed for a brain on this thing was. No such luck. A tentacle, barbed and sticky, swiped at him, driving him down into the ocean. He turned about and propelled himself away before lunging clear of the water again and turning to face the thing once more.

 

He sped horizontal a short way, hoping to get out of the Kraken's line of sight, then he dove down towards it again. But he was once more thwarted by a flailing tentacle and swore hotly.

 

“ _This approach does not appear to be effective, sir.”_

 

“Tell me something I don't know,” Tony spat.

 

“ _Statistically you are more likely to be killed by a champagne cork than by a poisonous spider.”_

 

“Brilliant. I truly did not know that.”

 

He surfaced again, spiralling around the giant squid while he tried to think of a way to get past its guards.

 

“ _Might I suggest attacking from a place where it cannot see you, sir?”_

 

“I tried that.”

 

“ _I was suggesting underwater, sir. Especially given that, when speaking of everyday squid, the mouth is in the centre of the legs. This would also be a vulnerable place to attack.”_

 

Tony didn't like to admit that sometimes his computer was smarter than he was. So he didn't. Instead, he just plunged back into the ocean, rocketing down until he was beyond the last tip of the farthest-reaching tentacle.

 

He changed his angle and moved inwards until Jarvis said;  
  
 _“This should be the right position.”_

 

He turned on his back, aimed both hands upwards and fired.

 

The Kracken let out an almighty screaming squeal that Tony hadn't even thought sea creatures capable of making. So he did it again and again. The Kracken cried out more loudly with each shot, and purple blood began to darken the water.

 

Tony grunted as a tentacle slithered against his side, but it wasn't a direct hit, and so he delivered a final blast, then sped out from under the creature, which had begun to rapidly sink. It moaned all the way, flailing weakly, and Tony watched it until it lay completely still on the ocean floor. For a few moments longer, he continued to watch, to be sure it was dead, then he turned and made for the surface.

 

Now he could return to Rocha and help.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Stark Tower, New York. 3:35 pm Sunday afternoon._

 

Tony was surrounded by mythological creatures. He'd brought up anything he could think of and now they all hovered around him courtesy of his computer programs and holographic projectors, and each one chilled him more than the last.

 

“So... they're real?” Pepper said for the tenth time, sipping from the mug of tea she held.

 

“Not all of them,” Tony muttered, then; “Jarvis, nix the smallfry.”

 

“ _Define 'smallfry',”_ was the reply.

 

“Anything that doesn't have its own name. Anything that's just a species. Like 'unicorn' or 'satyr' as opposed to 'Kraken' or 'Medusa'.”

 

“ _Understood,”_ Jarvis said, and pictures began flickering out.

 

“I'm glad he's understood by someone,” Pepper muttered. Tony had to grin a little at her.

 

There were still a lot of images and Tony jerked his hand through his hair, muttering to himself.

 

Jarvis said; _“Sir, your visitor is here.”_

 

“Bring him up,”

 

The elevator hummed and when the doors opened, Xander Stone was half-bent over, picking at the edge of one of the panels.

 

Pepper raised a brow.

 

Tony just waited, arms folded across the muted glow under his t-shirt.

 

Eventually, the young technician came to the realisation that the lift had stopped moving and he stood and turned in one slow-motion movement. He squeaked.

 

“M-M-Mr. Stark!” he stammered.

 

“Tony,” he ecouraged.

 

“Mr. T-Tony!” Xander squeaked.

 

Pepper snickered into her tea but Tony ignored her.

 

“Whatever,” he said. “Listen, about Uruguay-”

 

“It wasn't my fault. I was just sitting there. And you can't blame me for getting coffee on the machines. I'd just put it on when the 'quake hit – an eight-p-”

 

“Point-fucking-seven, I know,” Tony cut in dryly. “Shut up for a second, would you? I'm not blaming you for anything.”

 

Xander looked relieved.

 

“Awesome. So... I'll be going then.”

 

He turned, highlighter-yellow Chucks squeaking, and made for the lift.

 

“Mr. Stone,” Tony said.

 

Xander stopped, turning to face him again.

 

“X-Xander.”

 

“Mr. Xander,” Tony said gravely.

 

“Oh, don't tease him,” Pepper said, taking pity on the poor kid. “Look, have a seat kid. I'll get you a coffee. I don't know why you're here, but Tony usually has a good reason... Usually.”

 

“Thanks for that vote of confidence Miss. Potts,” Tony said sarcastically. She just grinned and saluted him with two fingers off her forehead as she went around the bench to make coffee.

 

“W-why _am_ I here?” Xander finally asked.

 

“Because you're clever. And obedient. And, I'm pretty sure, relatively broke.” He sniffed a little. “I need you to do a job for me.”

 

Xander blinked at him.

 

“Okay,” Tony said as Pepper pressed the coffee into Xander's hands. “Here's how it is. Most stories start with something true, yeah?”

 

Xander nodded.

 

“Well, that includes myths and legends, yeah?”

 

“Like Apollo dragging the sun across the sky?” Xander said readily.

 

“Right. Like that. Things people couldn't explain when they didn't have the knowledge we do. Well, so it's widely believed that all myth and legend is created in this way – that the beasts they speak of never existed.”

 

“But... it's not true?” the young scientist hazarded, guessing from Tony's tone.

 

“Right. The morning of the 'quake in Uruguay, the one you monitored, and called me about, that was the Kraken.”

 

“Right, I read the news articles, but they just said-”

 

“It was an irradiated squid, I know. They lied. Well. Except about the part where I took it down. That part is true.”

 

Pepper rolled her eyes.

 

“Well it is!” he protested.

 

Xander grinned a little.

 

“Anyway,” she said, sipping her coffee.

 

“Anyway,” Tony carried on. “It wasn't an irradiated squid, it was the Kraken. _The_ Kraken. You see, after Thor and Loki came and went, I started thinking. If stories like theirs were true, what else might be true? The deeper I dug, the more weird readings I found in odd places – like small tremors in places where they shouldn't be, or irregular radioactivity or strange mineral deposits. I wasn't sure what they were, but I started to set up monitoring stations like the one you worked at. Then I found one set of tremors that was very, very regular and rhythmic – as regular and rhythmic as heartbeat. That was when I started to think maybe these were the sorts of creatures... the sorts of godlike entities such as Thor put down. I thought a lot of other things, too, all sorts of theories and hypothesis, but once the Kraken broke the surface, I knew my first instinct was the right one. I don't know what woke it up, but I don't intend to let any others wake up. You showed quick-thinking and loyalty to me, and for that reason, I'm going to ask you to monitor all the stations from a central hub here in Stark Tower.”

 

Xander stared at him, struggling to comprehend.

 

“Monsters exist?” he finally said.

 

“Monsters have always existed,” Tony replied gravely. “It's just that these are the sort that aren't human.”

 

“Deep,” Pepper said, dragging the word out, annunciating the 'p' quite intently, and making it quite sarcastic.

 

“Shut _up_ , Potts!” Tony said, tossing a pillow at her. She giggled.

 

“I'll do it,” Xander said.

 

“Of course you will,” Tony said, all smiles again. “Now, let's talk about your paycheck.”

 

Xander's eyes lit up.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

 _Asgard, Undorne, T_ _ysdagr._

 

“He hasn't heard,” Fandral said under his breath to Sif. “And I don't think we should tell him.”

 

“You would have him find it out elsewhere?” she demanded, baring her teeth.

 

“Not find it out at all,” he replied.

 

“Impossible,” Hogun put in logically. “He will hear of it one way or another. Sif is right. Better that he hear it from us.”

 

Fandral shook his flaxen head.

 

“It will die down soon enough. We need only keep him occupied until it does.”

 

“Keep me occupied until what?”

 

Thor swaggered over to clap Fandral on the shoulder, Loki trailing in his wake.

 

Volstagg guffawed from where he sat feeding his face, slapping his thigh and Fandral scowled at him. Sif opened her mouth, but the blonde overrode her with;

 

“Now, now. It grows closer to your Nameday, Thor. You know better than to ask such questions.”

 

Thor arched a brow at Fandral and looked from one to the other of his warriors. Volstagg was busy with his food, while Hogun sharpened his blade, his dark hair shining in the firelight. Sif was the only one who would look at him and he could read in her eyes that there was something more.

 

His smile dropped away and he let go of Fandral, then dodged the grab the archer made for him.

 

“Sif,” he said. “What is it?”

 

She ignored Fandral's frantic hand-gestures behind Thor and, as he approached she stood. Loki drew alongside Fandral and smirked at him, gaze lazy as he mockingly mimicked the gestures the blonde had been making.

 

Fandral drew back his hand to punch the demi-god, but Loki flickered out of being and reappeared on the other side of the room, laughing.

 

“Loki,” Thor said warningly. He just grinned, giving a laconic salute, and sat by Volstagg, taking up a chicken leg which he plucked delicately at. Thor rolled his eyes and looked back at Sif.

 

“The Allfather has been watching Midgard,” she said.

 

“Sif,” Fandral said warningly.

 

“Silence, Fandral,” Thor growled, and he obeyed instantly, mouth closing with a click of his teeth. “Go on, Sif.”

 

“Ancient titans are rising, Thor. Your friend... the man in iron... The Stark.”

 

“Tony,” Thor said.

 

“Aye, Tony,” Sif echoed with a slight nod. “He has been forced to put on his armour and face the Kraken.”

 

Thor stared at her.

 

“The _Kraken_? The very same beastie we put down in the waters below the Bridge?”

 

“Aye, the very same. It's Midgardian incarnation,” she said.

 

“And he did it alone?” Loki asked curiously with a possible hint of admiration. “It took all of us.”

 

“Yes. He did it alone. But that is hardly the point,” she said.

 

“Such creatures have long slept beneath Midgard's surface. We know it to be true,” Hogun said. “It is just that none rose to enough power to waken them. Perhaps The Avengers' own newly-combined powers have woken it.”

 

“A valid thought,” Thor agreed, stroking his beard in thought. “But I was there when The Avengers...” He trailed off, glancing at Loki. “When all of that happened. And if that is the case then logic dictates it is partially my fault.”

 

“There is naught you can do about it,” Loki said, stretching out lazily along the couch he sat on with Volstagg.

 

Volstagg made to thump him, but Thor held up a hand.

 

“I can go and help them.”

 

“The Bifrost is yet laid to waste, brother,” Loki pointed out smoothly, sounding far too pleased. “You cannot reach Midgard and those dirt-crawlers you favour so.”

 

Thor dropped his hand and glanced at Volstagg. Grinning, the axeman thumped Loki.

 

“The Allfather has sent me once. He will send me again.”

 

“Oh, goodie,” Loki drawled, but Thor had already stalked off, and Loki jerked to his feet, stumbling after him.

 

“I still think that whole business punishes Thor more than it does Loki,” Fandral muttered when they were gone.

 

Sif shrugged.  
  
“The Allfather knows what he is doing.”

 

Thor strode along golden corridors, Loki following along behind, muttering to himself. But Thor had grown used to this constant background noise and so he ignored it. He didn't slow his pace for the entire trip to the throne room.

 

“I would speak with my father,” Thor said to the guards at the door. They nodded and opened the doors for him. His father sat in consultation with several of the strongest warriors, heads bowed over a circular gold bowl of water. Odin passed his hand across it as he sat back, lifting his head to smile at his sons.

 

“Thor. Loki. You are well-come.”

 

“Why have you not told me of the plight of Midgard?” Thor demanded without preamble, Loki slinking about in the background.

 

Odin's smile fell away.

 

“I had not known the right way to tell you. But worry not, for it is only one beast.”

 

“One may well give rise to more,” Thor said. “You know this.”

 

“Aye, but until we see that happen, there is little point speculating upon it, my son.”

 

“I wish to go to Midgard.”

 

“Out of the question. You are aware of how much power that requires and they are unlikely to need any further assistance.”

 

“What if it is not isolated? What if more creatures rise?”

 

“Then they have their own heroes. The Iron Man, Captain America, The Hulk. Those you fought with.”

 

Thor shook his head.

 

“We succeeded because we worked together.”

 

“And they will work together. Without you. Besides, you've your brother to think about.”

 

Thor glanced at him.

 

“Unbind us. Put him in stasis for the period of time I am gone.”

 

“You cannot just-” Loki protested. Thor quelled him with a look.

 

“I have bound him to you to learn to be a leader. You must demonstrate leadership to him now and back down from this selfish, foolish course,” Odin said firmly.

 

“It is not selfish, Father,” Thor argued. “I would do it for Midgard, and those who reside there.”

 

“Especially your wh-” Loki started but Thor rounded on him, backhanding him.  
  
“Do not presume you may insult her without injury, Loki,” he growled. Loki glared petulantly and rubbed at his cheek.

 

“You have responsibilities here, Thor, and owe nothing to Midgard,” Odin said, ignoring the argument. It was minor compared to some they had had since returning.

 

“If you will not send me, I will find a way myself, Loki included,” Thor said grimly. He turned to walk out.

 

“Do not walk out on me, Thor,” Odin said darkly.

 

Thor walked on, and Loki had no choice but to follow.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There is now an amazing illustration to go with this chapter, created by the marvelous KaterinaCaitiff. Words cannot describe how humbled and amazed I was when first she asked to draw my fanfiction, and then showed me the image. Thank you so much, Katerina!

[ ](http://katerinacaitiff.deviantart.com/art/Ironman-versus-The-Kraken-452489274)


	2. Hail Hydra.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys (and girl) play with fire.

_Tomsk, Tomsk Oblast, Russia. 2:26pm, Friday Afternoon._

 

“Dimitri! Yevgeni!”

 

The twin boys grinned at each other and pretended they couldn't hear their mother call, climbing up the ladder to throw themselves eagerly down the slide again. They were seven, old enough to think they knew best, but still young enough to know when their Mother knew best. Now, however, was definitely not one of those times.

 

Dimitri was so close behind his brother as they slid that when Yevgeni fell flat on his face at the bottom, there was no other possible outcome than that Dimitri fell atop him, giggling as their puffy jackets cushioned the impact.

 

Dimitri rolled off his brother and lay on his back, laughing.

 

“Hey!” Yevgeni said suddenly. “Hey, 'Mitri. Look here.”

 

Dimitri rolled onto his belly beside his twin, neither of them noticing the subtle rumble beneath them.

 

There was a small crack in the ground. It was hissing, warm steam puffing up and stirring Yevgeni's hair as he leaned over it, laughing.

 

“Whoooa...” Dimitri said, eyes wide. He moved closer, leaning in over the crack as well. As they watched, the crack spat out a gob of bright red glowing stuff that, when it hit the slide, hissed and popped and  _ melted a hole right through the plastic _ .

 

“Whoa!” they said together.

 

The crack widened a little and began to bubble and boil, overflowing with the glowing red substance. The boys were fascinated for a moment, until they realised how hot the stuff felt against their faces and began to back away, growing slightly wary.

 

“Dimitri!” Their mother's voice was more urgent now, and they suddenly noticed the ground was shaking quite hard. “Yevgeni!”

 

Now they ran towards their mother, just as a gout of magma spewed from the ground, engulfing the playground in a conflagration of flame and smoke.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Stark Tower, New York. 3:15 am Friday morning._

 

Pepper was good at ignoring Tony's phone. It rang at all sorts of strange hours, business partners in different countries unaware of the time difference. She could sleep through it, and through Tony's soft answer, and his subsequent exit from the bed.

 

However, this time it went on and on and on and Tony didn't answer, so she rolled over to thump him, only to find he wasn't there. She groaned. He must have gotten up and left his phone behind.

 

Sighing, she grabbed it and answered with a bleary;  
  
“T'ny S'rk's phone. P'pp'r sp'kin'.”

 

There was silence for a minute then a familiarly nerdy voice said;  
  
“M-Miss P-Potts?”

 

She sighed.

 

“Xander. Hi...” she said a bit more coherently. “What-”

 

“It's happening! The thing. The monster thing. Th-there's a heat-spike in Tomsk, Russia. In the ground. And tremors. I... I think it's... I mean it looks like a volcano.”

 

“And that's not normal in Tomsk, Russia...” she sighed. “Okay, I'll send him. Thanks, Xander. I'm sure he'll be in touch so don't go anywhere.”

 

She hung up and Tony chose that moment to wander in with a book in one hand and a brandy in the other.

 

“Suit up, Stark,” she sighed. “You're going to Tomsk.”

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Tomsk, Tomsk Oblast, Russia. 2:34pm, Friday Afternoon._

 

The twins and their mother were long-gone, and the section of the city they'd been in burned to ashes, melted and destroyed by the super-heated rock that churned in a crater where the playground had been. By this time, three pairs of eyes had appeared, mottled red-scaled heads something like a crocodile's bobbing on the surface of the molten lava. Something like a crocodile, save for being about three times the size.

 

A tank rolled up, along with a squad of footsoldiers, chattering with loud bravado that hid their true fear. The ground was still shaking, and more than one of them had already lost a home in the boiling lake.

 

The heads turned towards them one by one – red-eyed first, then green, then blue. For a long moment, everything was still and silent, then suddenly the red-eyed head reared out of the lava, giving a roar that stuttered and crackled like the shifting of a giant ice shelf. It drew back, a deep rumbling emitting from it as it drew breath. Then the head jerked forwards, like someone spitting chewing tobacco, and a gob of fiery, sticky goo shot down towards the soldiers.

 

Some of them were quick enough to jump out of the way. Those who weren't were killed almost instantly, melted to nothing with barely enough time for a bitten-off scream or useless flail. The most unfortunate were the soldiers who didn't get far away, but were neither near enough to be killed.

 

The stuff the creature spat was like napalm, sticking and burning, hotter than hell. The squadron was in disarray, men and women running in all directions while their commander tried to keep them in order.

 

Inside the tank, order still existed, and the gun turret rotated, the cannon's barrel lifting towards the head that seemed the most dangerous. The soldiers inside fired, the recoil on the massive cannon bucking the tank a little off the ground.

 

The mortar hit the beast in the side of its head, spraying scales and blood everywhere. Distant onlookers cheered as a pained roar echoed off the buildings around. The smoke billowing around the head shifted violently and the cheering petered out as they all heard it sucking in another breath.

 

Out of the smoke lunged the wounded head – not at all dead but very, very angry. Massive jaws clamped on the end of the cannon and before the soldiers inside could regain their composure at the shock of its still being alive, there was another impact. One of the other heads had latched onto the side of the tank, jaws open wide around the heavy metal.

 

As one, the heads spat their liquid fire, once, and then again after another rapid inhale. The tank weakened and melted under the onslaught and soon, the creature was closing dual jaws on squealing, twisting metal. They ripped the tank apart and reared up again, screaming their victory.

 

The third head rose and they began to move forwards.

 

All the soldiers were in a state of flight now, all the fight gone from them in the face of the destruction of the tank. They fled in all directions, aware on a gut-deep level that nothing around them provided protection from the destruction the creature could wreak.

 

Laboriously, it climbed out of the lava lake, the three heads suspended on long, long articulated necks that swayed like snakes above the huge, scaled, four-legged body. A whip-like tail was the last thing to be dragged free, lava dripping from scales.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

Tony watched it all in silence on a screen Jarvis provided for him while he flew. The computer was deep in their databases and (apparently) Wikipedia, trying to narrow down the exact thing they might be facing, but eventually it came back with;

 

“ _Sir, there are too many occurrences of three-headed dragon-like creatures in mythology for me to accurately name which one this is. A run-down of its presently analysed capabilities reads in this manner: Three heads, two of which are definitely capable of spitting napalm-like balls of what appear to be lava mixed with some form of mucus-”_

 

“Lovely.”

 

“ _The necks are long enough that the heads can turn in all directions freely, though they take a bit of time to swing a full one-hundred-eighty degrees. I do not yet know its top speed, though it appears to move its body and legs slowly. I do not yet know if the tail is prehensile.”_

 

As Tony approached, the tail in question whipped out around a second approaching tank, wrapping around it. The creature flung the tank like it was a toy, back behind it into the lake of lava.

 

“The tail is prehensile,” Tony said, just as Jarvis said the very same.

 

“ _I recommend you decide on a plan before you attack,”_ Jarvis said, tone somehow managing to convey the feeling of knowing Tony would ignore him.

 

“You know me,” Tony replied. “I have a plan-”

 

“ _Attack. I know, sir. Very well, sir.”_

 

Tony grinned fiercely and plunged in, firing all down the thing's spine. The energy pulses did little to dent the scaly armour, but it certainly was enough to draw attention. The heads began to turn towards him, rearing up and coming together, and Tony's genius mind did some quick calculations. He armed every gun and missile in his suit, arching over backwards in a loop as the heads turned. He rolled down towards the base of the necks, where they were closest, and fired every shot.

 

One by one, the heads fell, melting away into lava as they hit the ground. The body keeled over with a thunderous crash, raising a cloud of ash and dust into the air. Tony laughed out loud.

 

“How easy was that?! How good am I?!” he crowed, banking and rocketing straight up in the air.

 

“ _Yes, sir. Of course, sir,”_ Jarvis said, clearly humouring the billionaire. Tony didn't care though. He was used to the strange almost-personality of his computer.

 

“Right,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Let's get to clearing up this-”

 

“ _Sir, the creature appears to be moving,”_ Jarvis broke in suddenly.

 

Tony whirled, hovering in the air to above the body.

 

“Just twitching. Nervous system going down?” he suggested.

 

Jarvis was silent, and that bothered Tony. What bothered him even more was that, as he watched, the twitching intensified. A skin formed over the stumps of the necks and just as Tony began to think maybe things weren't over after, three more heads burst free of the prone body.

 

No.

 

Three more heads burst free of  _ each stump of neck _ .

 

“Holy-”

 

“ _Probability indicates the Hydra,”_ Jarvis said far too calmly.

 

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Great. Thanks for clearing that up  _ way too late _ .”

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Paris, France. 10:53 am, Friday Morning._

 

Steve didn't mind being alone. It was actually a relief, not to have to explain himself. Not to have to fake understanding when people seemed to be speaking in a different language. In fact, here, they  _ were _ speaking a different language, so his confusion was easily explained away.

 

Nick Fury's stipend did not go unspent. While he was a generally giving man, he felt S.H.I.E.L.D owed him a fair bit, so he usually stayed in nice hotels with English-speaking television stations on satellite.

 

Not that he really paid attention to what was on. He found a lot of things stupid and/or offensive, especially that “American Dad” cartoon show.

 

In fact, it was sheer luck that he'd seen anything at all. He just happened to be coming out of the bathroom, blinding white towel slung low around his waist, skin steaming from a long shower, when the television he'd left on flashed to breaking news on the thing terrorising Russia.

 

He'd seen the Kraken, of course, and not believed the Media's spinning about it being an irradiated squid. Once he would have, but not any more.

 

He sat on the end of the bed and propped his chin on his folded hands, elbows resting on knees and turned up the broadcast.

 

“ _...appears to have taken the creature down. All the heads are off and the body has fallen over. Yes! It seems the Iron Man has triumphed a- wait. Wait! What's that? The creature seems... it... I can hardly believe this! Each of the necks has grown back not one, but three heads, totalling nine all together! All of them are in pursuit of the Iron Man!”_

 

Steve sat forwards, his hands dropping to his knees as he watched Tony spiral up and up,  _ nine _ fire-spouting heads hot on his tail.

 

“Stark,” he growled with a curl of his lip. “You never have a plan.”

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Calcutta, India. 1:23 pm, Friday Afternoon._

 

Bruce tied off the last stitch on the little girl's leg, reassuring her with wordless murmurs. It really wasn't all that bad of a cut, but he knew it could have festered if he hadn't been around. He dressed it, and told her she must come back tomorrow to have it changed.

 

“No money,” she said in a whisper.

 

“No money needed,” he replied gently and sent her off with a wave.

 

He was about to call in his next patient when his phone rang.

 

It was a tiny thing, given to him with the clear understanding that he could just chuck it if he wanted to. Or ignore it. He almost didn't pick it up, but not once had she called him in the year and a half that had passed, so he knew it must be urgent. With a sigh, he answered;

 

“Bruce.”

 

“ _ Bruce. Thank God. Are you watching the TV?” _

 

He looked around and snorted.  
  
“Of course not.”

 

“ _Well... you need to find one. Find one and call me back.”_   
  
“What...? But... Natasha, I-” 

 

She had already hung up.

 

Bruce sighed and ran his hand through his hair, glancing out the window which listed to one side along with the rest of the building. There were a lot of people in the dusty street, milling around while they waited for him to call them in.

 

But if Natasha was calling...

 

He packed up his things and stood, heading out.

 

“I'm sorry, everyone, but I have to take a break and I don't know how long I'll be. I'll let you all know when I come back.”

 

No one complained. It wasn't like America where his declaration would have been met with carrying on, complaining and probably swearing. They just accepted it and moved off.

 

His heart ached for them, but he nevertheless went to find a TV.

 

The first one he came across was a tiny, black-and-white affair with terrible reception and a lot of snow. About fifteen people were crowded around it, murmuring and jostling, gasping as one. He leaned in to see, squinting.

 

Once he got accustomed to the bad picture, it was easy to make out and his eyes widened as he watched Tony streak through the snowy streets of some city, chased by... by...

 

“Is that a dragon?” he said.

 

“Yes,” someone else replied. “It breathes fire and everything.”

 

“ _ How _ many heads does it have?!” he cried.

 

“Well, it started with three. Then he cut them all off and it grew back nine.”

 

He'd heard of the giant squid via word-of-mouth and, while he wasn't really willing to accept it was an irradiated squid, he'd seen no better explanation, and not been inclined to find one. This, however, what the man described... it was quite clearly...

 

“The Hydra...” Bruce whispered.

 

He lifted his shaking hands and called Natasha back.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Tomsk, Tomsk Oblast, Russia. 2:53pm, Friday Afternoon._

 

Tony's chest heaved inside his suit as he sat inside a concrete building, listening to the creature rampaging outside. He pressed the metal heel of his hand to his metal forehead and thought.

 

“Okay. So. Okay. Cutting off heads is a bad idea. Ridiculously bad idea. So we need to hit its vitals.”

 

“ _May I suggest the explosives you installed, Sir?”_

 

“Yeah, good idea. I'll need to get close to plant them, though, and I don't know how I'm going to get past those heads...”

 

“ _Stark.”_

 

That wasn't Jarvis. For one thing, it wasn't polite enough.

 

“Fury? What do you want this time? I'm a little busy, in case you hadn't turned on a TV.”

 

“ _Hang in there. Cavalry's on its way,”_ Fury said.

 

“What?” His voice was surprised, even to his own ears and he heard Fury laugh a little at him.

 

“The others have access to TVs as well, Stark. Well. Natasha had to call Banner, but they're on their way. Just hold on.”

 

“Right,” Tony said to himself “No freaking worries.” He steeled himself, then rolled out from behind the concrete and took off again, weaving in and out of the heads to distract them from destroying the city as best he could.

 

An hour later – or thereabouts – an angel spoke in his ear.

 

“ _Miss us, Stark?”_

 

He grinned.

 

“Oh, I missed  _ you _ , Miss Romanov.”

 

Clint landed the plane a distance from the dragon and Tony kicked himself over to fly in that direction, landing lightly as none other than Captain America trotted down the open ramp of the plane.

 

“Plan?” the super soldier asked, eyeing him like he doubted it.

 

“Half of one,” Tony said mulishly, glancing at Bruce, who was next down the ramp.

 

“We could, uh... really do with Thor just now, huh?” the scientist said.

 

“Don't hold your breath on that one,” Clint said, snapping his bow open as he and Natasha both came down the ramp.

 

“The plan,” Steve cut in. “What is it?”

 

“The half-a-plan,” Tony corrected him, and waited out the glare he got, just because he was a shit that way.

 

“The half-a-plan,” Steve growled and Tony felt victorious.

 

“Well, cutting off the heads really doesn't work,” he said. “It just grows back three more, and if you've read the legends, that got pretty hairy for Hercules. I want to put explosives on the body. But I can't get past the heads alone.”

 

Tony generally didn't like taking orders, but he had to admit, just to himself, that he was glad when Steve did his typical threat-assessment thing and began rattling them off.

 

“Clint, I want you back in the plane. Bother it as much as you can and keep the heads on you. If the plane goes down, so be it. Just make sure you get yourself out. Natasha, you and I will have to stay on the ground, or the buildings. We'll do the same thing. Try and keep the heads busy. Bruce, try and get in and break its legs. If you can do that, it's less manoeuvrable and that makes Stark's job easier.”

 

He turned to Tony as they scattered, waiting for the Hulk's roar to disperse before he said;  
  
“Try to come in from behind it if you can. If it doesn't see you, it won't be able to stop you. Let us know when we need to get clear.”

 

He was silent for a moment, as though he was waiting for something. Probably thanks, Tony realised. He just met Rogers' gaze through his helmet until the super soldier made a short 'tsh' sound and jogged off, stupidly fluid.

 

His perfection irritated Tony endlessly, and he wasn't even man enough to admit to himself it was because of how flawed he was in comparison. He bared his teeth and kicked off the ground, heading out at right-angles from where Steve had gone.

 

“ _ Try to come in from behind it if you can _ ,” he mocked. “Fucking no way. I never would have thought of that.”

 

“ _Sir, might I suggest-”_

 

“No, Jarvis, you might not.”

 

Jarvis fell silent as Tony streaked across the path of destruction wrought by the creature.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

Steve didn't know why he'd expected Tony to be grateful. He should have known better. The man never had liked taking orders, and there was never any doubt that Steve was the one who would, in the end, issue them in a crisis situation. That it had saved the whole world from Loki's madness didn't seem to have changed Tony's attitude.

 

Even if it was the billionaire who'd actually  _ told _ him to call it that time.

 

A building crashed down on Steve's left, Natasha back-flipping off a piece of debris she rode down and he knew he didn't have time to worry about any of that right now as she landed beside him.

 

“Having fun?” he wondered.

 

“Oh, sure,” she said. “A date with you boys and a giant nine-headed dragon? What more could a girl want?”

 

One of the heads came whipping down after her and Steve wasted no time in taking hold of her waist and launching her up over it, out of the way of the gout of flaming phlegm it spat. He crouched behind his shield to deflect it and heard her grunt as she landed.

 

On the head, apparently, he noted as he popped back out from behind the vibranium.

 

“That wasn't what I was going for!” he called to her.

 

“I tend not to care what guys are going for!” she called back, and rammed a knife down into one beady eye. The thing screamed, and she was wise enough to jump clear before the head snapped back up to its full height. She landed lightly as a cat and Steve shook his head a little as she grinned at him.

 

“Your turn,” she said.

 

He gave a quick grin in return and began making his way up the nearest building. As he climbed, he saw Clint rocket between three of the heads, drawing them down towards he and Natasha.

 

“Right, then,” he said grimly, and climbed a little faster.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

Tony had to admit they were doing a good job. The creature was paying him no mind as it had to deal with Clint raining fire on it and Natasha and Steve flipping around its heads like fleas on speed. He couldn't see the Hulk, but he could hear it, and judged it was getting nearer to the goal Steve had set it.

 

Bruce was right. They could really do with Thor on this one. Surely even this thing couldn't survive that high of a voltage. Though Tony wasn't sure if Thor could channel it long enough to stop the beastie's heart.

 

He shook his head. That wasn't worth holding out for, anyway. They didn't even know if Thor bothered to glance at them any more.

 

Besides, as he hovered, waiting for his moment, the Hydra suddenly came to a halt, keeling over to one side. The Hulk's triumphant bellow was unmistakeable.

 

“Well, there you go,” Tony said with a disbelieving shake of his head. He wondered briefly what would happen if they gave Steve Bruce's mix of the serum, with his already being enhanced. Of course, no one was ever going to let him try.

 

Too bad.

 

“ _Sir-”_

 

“I know, Jarvis.”

 

Tony shifted from his hover to dive down towards the dragon. A compartment on his shoulder popped up with the slightest of twitches and he prepared to fire the adhesive explosives.

 

He came in fast and low, avoiding the tail and flying in close by the creature's side. The Hulk had broken the left foreleg, so he came in on the right and dodged in under that foreleg. Flipping onto his back, he peppered the stomach and chest with the little sticky explosives before rocketing out from under the Hydra with a head snapping at his metal toes.

 

“Hydra is hot,” he said calmly over their bluetooths.

 

“ _Roger,”_ Steve replied first, Natasha hot on his heels.

 

“ _Roger that,”_ Clint said and banked the plane away.

 

The Hulk smashed onwards.

 

“ _Banner,”_ came Steve's best parade-ground bark.

 

He got a roar in response, or maybe that was because the Hydra dipped one of its heads too near the Hulk. Tony wasn't even sure if it was the Hydra or the Hulk roaring.

 

“I don't even know if he's still wearing his bluetooth,” Tony said. “You know, he'd most likely survive it if I blew it...”

 

Clint's snicker reached him, but Steve made that  _ tch _ sound again and Tony caught a glimpse of that stupidly blue suit streaking down towards the Hulk.

 

“This could end in tears,” he said dryly.

 

“ _Roger_ that _ ,” _ Clint muttered.

 

“ _Banner,”_ they all heard.  _ “Bruce. Leave it.” _

 

There was a grunt – Steve's – and he came skidding out of the dust the Hydra was raising on his arse, shield held up to defend himself as the Hulk thundered after him. A green fist hammered into the vibranium and Steve grunted again, through clenched teeth.

 

“ _Banner!”_ he said urgently.

 

“Tempted to watch him get smashed into the ground,” Tony said idly, only to Clint. The archer snorted.

 

“ _It'd be satisfying in a way, huh?”_

 

Tony laughed, but he adjusted his flight and headed down towards where Steve and the Hulk were fighting. Or rather, Steve was getting smashed into the ground.

 

“Hold on, Captain,” Tony said, tucking his hands under the man's arms. He shot backwards, keeping Steve in front of him like a matador's cape. It worked. The Hulk pounded towards them, and away from the danger of the high explosives.

 

“Gonna blow that thing,” Tony said.

 

“Do it,” Steve replied, weirdly echoing through his bluetooth a second later.

 

Like he needed permission. Hmph. Just because of that, he was almost tempted not to do it. But he did, and he whooped as the Hydra went sky high.

 

A little... higher... than he'd calculated.

 

“Whoa!” he said suddenly, realising quickly that whatever was inside the Hydra allowing it to spit those balls of lava mucus was reacting with the explosives. “We gotta go, Cap!”

 

“But, what about-” Steve started.

 

Tony had already kicked upwards, streaking towards the sky in an effort to get out of the blast radius.

 

“He'll have to take his chances,” Tony said grimly.

 

“But-”

 

“I  _ know _ , Captain, but we-”

 

He cut himself off as the shock wave of the explosives suddenly caught up with them like a punch in the gut. He grunted and dipped in the air, his screens flickering alarmingly. Something shorted in his armour and it went suddenly lax from head to toe, absolutely nothing responding to him. Though, thankfully, his repulsors were still working.

 

But then his fingers unlocked.

 

Holy fuck, he'd just fucking dropped Captain America.

 

Tony swore, rapid-fire, but he couldn't change his angle because nothing in his suit would respond, his repulsors only serving to keep him at a hover where he was, as becalmed as a ship in a windless ocean.

 

“Um... Anyone?” he said helplessly into his radio. Even  _ that _ wasn't working, except to stutter back at him with Steve's voice;

 

“ _...nyone! C...ear me? I...lling fast, and I ca...op!”_

 

Tony shut off his repulsors. Now he was falling too, though he didn't know how he was going to catch up, since Steve would have to be at maximum velocity by now.

 

Somewhere, the Hydra was howling, bubbling and hissing, gobs of lava flying everywhere in the smoke and debris. Blessedly, Tony's suit suddenly powered up again. He flipped and shot downwards.

 

“Cap!” he called. “ _ Steve _ !”

 

“Stark!” he heard, nearer than he'd expected. He adjusted his trajectory a little and made a grab. His fingers closed around something and he dropped his feet, pulling up short. Steve grunted.

 

“Yes!” Tony crowed and headed upwards again. As it turned out, what he had was Steve's ankle. He grinned down at the scowling, upside-down super soldier then flipped him up and caught him around his chest, nose-to-nose with him.

 

“Do you  _ mind _ ?” Steve blustered, and was he a little red under the edges of his cowl?

 

Tony half-wished his helmet wasn't in the way.

 

“Not really,” he replied, but he turned Steve away from him and held under his arms to bring him back to the plane.

 

“Report,” Steve barked when Tony set him down.

 

“Threat neutralised,” Clint said straight away. “No more heat sig.”

 

“And Bruce?”

 

They all looked uneasy, shaking their heads in turn as he looked from one to the next.

 

“I'm here,” came his weary voice suddenly across their bluetooths. “Floating naked on a rock in the middle of a lake of lava and spit. Awesome.”

 

Tony snickered and didn't need Steve's glance to take off and go collect Bruce.

 

“ _Pack it up. We're heading to Stark Tower,”_ Steve said.

 

“We are?” Tony asked in their ears.

 

“ _Sure. Miss Potts let Fury use it as a base until this is sorted.”_

 

“She did?”

 

“ _Yep.”_

 

Tony landed with Bruce, to whom Clint gave pants.

 

“This is news to me,” Tony said, popping his helmet open.

 

Steve grinned, clearly taking satisfaction in this. He shrugged.

 

“Better speak to your girl,” he teased and swung into the plane with ridiculous ease, especially for someone who had recently nearly fallen to his death.

 

“Better speak to your girl,” Tony mocked silently and Clint snickered.

 

“Barton!” Steve barked from inside the plane.

 

“Duty calls,” Clint muttered and headed aboard.

 

Tony shrugged helplessly at Bruce and the pair of them boarded together.

 

“So,” Bruce drawled. “That was... apocalyptic.”

 

“We tried to get you out first,” Tony said apologetically.

 

“Yeah, I remember. Don't beat yourself up. The Other Guy isn't always rational. And apparently he can survive an explosion on steroids as well as he can a regular one.”

 

Tony grinned.


	3. Somewhere Over the...

_Stark Tower, New York. 11:23 am Saturday morning._

 

The Avengers presence, he could take. Half of SHIELD being in his building, he could take. Clinton Barton having Jarvis randomly throw up holographic targets to practise on, he actually found amusing. Giving up half his lab to Bruce didn't worry him at all. He could even handle giving up a couple of the extra bedrooms for those idiot SHIELD techies to use as  _ their _ lab, but this? This was a line. Pepper had crossed it.

 

“My cinema room? Really?!” he hissed at a politely smiling Pepper.

 

“You never use it, and you can pop up screens anywhere anyway,” she replied reasonably.

 

“It's hardly the same,” he complained.

 

“Director Fury needed a place for his office that could display all the readings and link to Xander and his Board of Directors.”

 

“I'm paying Xander. He reports to me.”

 

“Of course, dear,” Pepper said, patting his cheek. It was dismissive as hell, and she walked away, hips swinging.

 

Tony heard a chuckle behind him.

 

“Atta boy, Stark. You tell her,” Steve taunted.

 

“Shut up, Rogers,” Tony hissed.

 

“Your girl is too smart for you, even if you are a genius.”

 

“Actually, yeah,” Tony agreed with a slight smile. “But I don't mind.”

 

Steve's own smile was a little vague and wistful for a moment before he shook it off.

 

“If you don't mind,” he said with his usual unfailing ye olde politeness. “Where is the gym?”

 

“I'll show you how to use the elevator,” Tony said.

 

“I know to u-”

 

“Not this one, you don't.” Tony headed off, waving Steve to follow.

 

They stepped into the elevator and Tony smirked when Steve looked for buttons.

 

“Jarvis,” he said clearly. “Gym.”

 

“ _At once, Sir,”_ Jarvis replied and the elevator hummed slowly and smoothly downwards.

 

“You're right,” Steve said ruefully. “I wouldn't have known. We landed on the helipad and came down the stairs.”

 

“Helipad?” Tony echoed. “Damn SHIELD, installing helipads all over the place without permission.”

 

Steve grinned a little and the elevator doors opened.

 

“ _Gym, Sir. Captain Rogers, enjoy your session.”_

 

Steve blinked.

 

“Erm. Thanks?” Steve said uncertainly.

 

“ _You're welcome, Captain Rogers.”_

 

“Jarvis runs pretty much everything in the building. Just ask him if you need something, and he can help you out.”

 

Tony ushered Steve out of the elevator and took him on a tour of the extensive gym level. Steve was impressed.

 

“It's better than SHIELD's,” he remarked when they were done.

 

“Yeah, well. I have to work to keep my body in shape. I wouldn't be able to control the suit otherwise.”

 

Steve nodded.

 

“Well, if you wanna spar,” he said, wandering over to some weights.

 

Tony snorted.

 

“You'd wipe the floor with me.”

 

Steve grinned, setting up a ridiculous amount of weight on a barbell and lying back on the bench press.

 

“No superstrength, I swear,” he said and began to effortlessly lift the barbell.

 

“Right,” Tony said, disbelieving. He thought of offering to spot, but doubted he could hold the weight in the unlikely event that Steve dropped it anyway.

 

“I spar with Clint, Bruce and Nat all the time,” Steve went on, not even sounding like he was engaging in any activity at all, let alone lifting the weight of a small horse. “I've practised. But you know. If you're scared...”

 

He trailed off, and Tony knew it was a bait, but he took it anyway.

 

“I'm not scared of you, Rogers,” he muttered.

 

“Right, right. Of course,” Steve replied patronisingly.

 

“Alright then, let's do it. No suit. No superstrength.”

 

Steve set the barbell in its rests and sat up, giving that crooked, one-sided half grin, half smirk Tony liked best on him. Better than his kilowatt smile. Better than his intense frowning. Better than – wait. Why was he cataloguing Steve's expressions?

 

He shook his head slightly and followed Steve over to a floor mat.

 

“I know you like boxing better, but your file said you know a lot of different martial arts,” the supersoldier said, indicating the boxing ring. “If you'd rather, though.”

 

“Nah, you're not a boxer,” Tony said.

 

“Not really,” Steve agreed, bringing his hands up.

 

Tony struck first, knowing Steve's mind for combat was as sharp as his was for electronics. He was surprised he actually got his chopping hand through to Steve's ribs, but he shouldn't have been too excited about it. He didn't land even one blow after that. It was taking him too long to learn the supersoldier's extensive catalogue of moves, while Steve seemed to know his instinctively.

 

“No superstrength, right,” Tony puffed ten minutes later, hands on his knees. “But you're not holding back on your superbrain.”

 

“You're the one with the superbrain,” Steve reminded him, hands on hips and muscles taut beneath the stupid-tight shirt he wore.

 

Tony wondered vaguely if he thought they were supposed to look like that, or he just kept forgetting he was ten sizes bigger these days.

 

“Not wired for combat like yours,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

 

Steve laughed and relaxed and, though he knew it was dirty, that was when Tony went at him again. This time, he managed to get Steve into an awkward bearhug and hook one leg behind his knee before he could react. They tumbled to the mat, Steve's enhanced protective instincts leading him to catch Tony's shoulders and keep him above him as they landed.

 

Tony abruptly became very aware of Steve's proximity – and the fact that his thigh was pressed in tight between the other man's legs.

 

Steve waited the allotted amount of time his old-fashioned brain dictated was a fair and reasonable thing for them to remain that way and, when Tony didn't move off, he stared up at the man, a flush beginning to creep up his neck.

 

He cleared his throat.

 

“Mr. Stark,” he said.

 

_ God, _ Tony thought suddenly and completely inappropriately.  _ His eyes are so fucking blue. _

 

They really were. So. Blue.

 

Without even being conscious of it, Tony brought one hand up, running the backs of his fingers along the underside of Steve's ridiculously perfect wave of a fringe, lifting it further aside so the light better caught his eyes and  _ hell yes _ , they were so  _ fucking _ blue.

 

“Mr. Stark,” Steve said again, and this time it was tight, verging on dangerous.

 

Tony twitched and jerked his hand away, getting to his feet all in a rush.

 

Steve literally  _ jumped _ to his feet, doing that impossible gymnast thing where he put his hands up behind his head, kicked his legs out and was suddenly upright. He was then just as suddenly on the other side of the room, staring at Tony like he was a dangerous snake Steve had found in his combat boot in the middle of a warzone.

 

“Calm down, Daisy,” Tony muttered, though he was far from it himself.

 

“Don't you... for one minute... think I... that I... that I'm...” Steve said in a haltingly defensive way that instantly had Tony's eyes narrowing with its vehemence.

 

“What?” he challenged belligerently, because it was in his nature.

 

“I'm  _ not _ . I  _ don't _ . I never  _ would _ ,” Steve huffed, and he was quite suddenly bolting for the elevator.

 

“Hey. Didn't you-” Tony started, meaning to finish with 'want to work out?', but Steve cut him off.

 

“ _ Never _ in a million  _ years _ , Stark,” he spat then, proving his capacity to learn exceptionally fast; “Jarvis, doors.”

 

They hissed open and he stepped inside, giving Jarvis his next command even as the doors closed again.

 

Tony blinked in the sudden silence of the gym and his head tipped a little to the side in thought.

 

“Methinks thou dost protest too much...” he murmured to himself, a half-smirk coming to his mouth. He'd outed boys before, at boarding school especially and, while he hadn't tended towards the male gender in more recent times, Steve was one out of the box.

 

“Hey, Jarvis?”

 

“ _Sir?”_

 

“Pull up everything we've got on Steven Rogers.”

 

“ _Everything, sir? Are you sure? Your father kept extensive notes, not to mention all the media and-”_

 

“Yes, Jarvis,  _ everything _ ,” Tony clarified.

 

There was silence from the AI for a minute, then;

 

“ _Sir, aren't you forgetting something?”_

 

“What's that?”

 

“ _Miss Potts, sir.”_

 

Tony froze. Wow. For a minute there, he totally  _ had _ forgotten Pepper. And he was both glad and a little pissed that he'd created an AI intelligent enough to divine his purpose.

 

“Er. Well. Yes. Well. So. Forget those files. Never mind.”

 

“ _Very well, sir,”_ Jarvis said.

 

What was he thinking? This wasn't high school, and he wasn't single. Not that not being single had stopped him back then. But he was different now. Or so he continually kept telling himself. He shook his head a little to clear it and left the gym.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Stark Tower, New York. 11:23 pm Saturday night._

 

“I don't get it.”

 

“What's not to get?”

 

“Why did he fake his own death? You can't just... back out of having a superpower.”

 

“He got sick of it.”

 

“Too bad. You do your duty.”

 

“Yeah, well, and he didn't want to any more.”

 

“You don't get to not want to. It's a responsibility.”

 

“That's just it. He'd had enough of the responsibility.”

 

“You don't get to have had enough, either. Duty is duty.”

 

“Not all of us are freakish supersoldiers with an overexcited sense of duty.”

 

“Just because you have  _ no _ sense of duty, doesn't mean-”

 

“You know what, you-”

 

“ _ Boys _ !”

 

Everyone tore their gazes away from the rapidly escalating argument between Tony and Steve as Natasha butted in, her face a picture of motherly disbelief.

 

“For goodness' sake, it's an animated film. Get over it. Not everything has to turn into a pissing contest. Sit down. Shut up. And if you can't enjoy the film, Steve, then let the rest of us do so in peace.”

 

“I  _ told _ you Megamind was a bad idea,” Tony had to put in.

 

“Yeah, and you're always right, aren't you, Stark?” Steve spat.

 

Tony's eyes narrowed.

 

“You're so fu-”

 

“ _ Enough _ ! Don't think I won't taze you both!” Natasha threatened.

 

Steve said nothing more, but thrust himself out of his chair and stalked from the room. They all heard him bark at the elevator, and then he was gone.

 

Silence reigned for a long few moments, then Bruce – of all people, Bruce, the man Tony would have said had his back from dusk til dawn – said;

 

“Why do you have to rile him up like that?”

 

“ _ What _ ?!” Tony cried, jerking so quickly out of his slouch that he almost spilt his whiskey. “Me?”

 

“Yeah, you,” Natasha waded in, arms folded across her chest like a disapproving schoolmarm. “You always have to push him.”

 

“Hey, it's not like he can't push back!” Tony said, scowling. “He's bigger than me.”

 

“Yeah, but he's... he's...” Natasha said, searching for a word.

 

“Innocent,” Clint put in, hitting the nail on the head.

 

“Yeah, that's it. Innocent,” Natasha agreed, and Bruce (the traitor) was nodding.

 

“Oh, come on, he's not a kid...” Tony muttered, knowing deep down they were absolutely right.

 

“As near as,” Bruce said.

 

“He'd smack you one if he heard you say that,” Tony growled.

 

“Why do you think we waited til he left?” Clint said dryly.

 

“Yeah, then you ambush me. Listen. This is my tower. He – all of you – are only here because I let you be-”

 

“Because Pepper lets us be,” Clint muttered, but Tony just kept on.

 

“I can say what I like. Do what I like.”

 

He stood.

 

“Tony-” Bruce started, sounding apologetic.

 

“No, Bruce. Just. Whatever. Enjoy your movie.” He stalked off. “Jarvis, get Happy to come to the gym in fifteen. Tell him I need to box.”

 

“ _Right away, Sir,”_ Jarvis said, his calm, even tones having a soothing effect as Tony went to change.

 

Of course, when Steve retreated, it was to the gym, so Tony found him there when he arrived, and he was already working with Happy, showing him some move or another.

 

Tony rolled his eyes and turned to leave, but Happy had already seen him.  
  
“Mr. Stark,” he said and Tony turned back to them, noting that Steve immediately tensed.

 

“Go on, Happy,” the blonde said. “I'll be over here.”

 

He turned, walking stiffly over to a punching bag that was already looking stressed. Tony wondered if he could improve them to handle Captain America's particular attention better. He shook his head to clear it. Why should he bother?

 

Happy was climbing up into the ring, and looking guilty. Tony knew logically Happy had no reason to be guilty, but he felt gratified by it nonetheless. He tried not to pay any attention to the rhythmic sounds of Steve beating the living hell out of the equipment.

 

“You're slow today, Mr. Stark,” Happy said after a few minutes.

 

“Shut up, Happy,” Tony muttered, and took him down easily with a round-house kick.

 

“That is  _ not _ regulation!” Happy complained.

 

Tony thought he heard Steve snort and his eyes snapped over to the supersoldier, but Steve was still beating away at the bag.

 

“Sure it is,” Tony replied, dragging his gaze back to Happy. “In...” He gestured vaguely. “Taekwondo...”

 

“Taekwon... we're  _ boxing _ !”

 

Tony shrugged and came at him again. Soon they were wrestling and Tony, with his wiry frame and quick movements, soon had Happy on the floor again.

 

“Tony!” he complained.

 

“He can't win without cheating.”

 

And this time there was no mistaking that it was Steve, beating on the bag still or no.

 

Tony scowled in his direction.

 

“This is a closed session!” he called. “I can still kick you out.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve said with a snicker. “If you cheat.”

 

“Oh, you sanctimonious little-”

 

“ _Sir, Mr. Stone is asking to be patched through.”_

 

Tony growled and pushed the boxing glove over his hair.

 

“Alright, Jarvis.” He paused a minute and Steve stopped hitting the bag. “Xander?”

 

“ _Mr. Tony,”_ the kid said, sounding over-stimulated in a way that indicated he'd had way too much coffee.  _ “I've got something. Or. That is. The monitoring station you've got near Alice Springs in Australia has.” _

 

“Talk to me,” Tony said, exchanging a glance with Steve who was already touching his bluetooth and sending out the order to suit up.

 

“ _Flooding, Sir. On a massive scale, with no apparent rain. It's like the water table is just rising on its own.”_

 

“Or something under it is pushing it up,” Tony muttered.

 

“ _Right. That was my thought, too.”_

 

“Thanks, Professor X,” Tony said with a grin. “I'll get you those Batman Chucks you wanted.”

 

“ _Epic,”_ Xander said and signed off.

 

Steve was waiting with the elevator doors open.

 

“Thanks,” Tony said. The supersoldier just nodded and they both waved to Happy as the doors closed.

 

Jarvis didn't need to be told where to deposit them. He dropped Tony on the level where his suit exit was, and Steve at the armoury where his uniform was. They parted without words.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Uluru, Northern Territory, Australia. 4:57 pm, Sunday afternoon._

 

Tony landed on Uluru just because he knew it would piss off the locals. They'd banned climbing the rock years ago, so it was, he guessed, a rare privilege. Clint set the bird down a short ways off and soon the team was coming down the ramp.

 

It was a mess. Afterall, they were in the middle of a desert that was currently four or five inches underwater. It made for a muddy situation.

 

“Where is it?” Steve demanded as Tony landed beside them.

 

“If my calculations are correct - and there's no doubt they are – right around here.”

 

Clint looked left and right.

 

“Nope,” he said.

 

“Well. Then it will be,” Tony said defensively.

 

“Do you have any idea what it might be?” Steve inquired, a little more calmly.

 

“No,” Tony said apologetically.

 

Quite suddenly, half of Uluru exploded upwards and Tony briefly thought he was glad he'd stood on it while he had the chance. Something reared up in the dust cloud, but none of them could see what.

 

“Jarvis?” Tony prompted.

 

“ _A moment, Sir,”_ the computer replied.

 

Tony waited about thirty seconds.

 

“Jarvis.”

 

“ _I cannot get a reading, Sir. It has no heat signature that I can make out.”_

 

Blessedly, the wind suddenly picked up, pressing the dust aside and they all had about three seconds to take in the sight of the colossal snake rearing above them, scales glistening rainbow in the sun, before it struck down towards them. They scattered, Steve grabbing the collar of Bruce's shirt and pulling him aside.

 

“Thanks,” Bruce breathed.

 

Steve gave a short nod.

 

“Suit up,” he said grimly and took off running as the snake headed into the desert.

 

“ _Sir,”_ Jarvis said.  _ “Probability indicates the Rainbow Serpent.” _

 

“The what? I've never heard of it!”

 

“ _The Rainbow Serpent is a common motif in the art and mythology of Aboriginal Australia. It is named for the snake-like meandering of water across a landscape and the colour spectrum caused when sunlight strikes water at an appropriate angle relative to the observer._

 

_Dreamtime stories tell of the great spirits and totems during creation, in animal and human form that moulded the barren and featureless earth. The Rainbow Serpent came from beneath the ground and created huge ridges, mountains and gorges as it pushed upward. It is a serpent of immense proportions which inhabits deep permanent waterholes._

 

_It is known both as a benevolent protector of its people (the groups from the country around) and as a malevolent punisher of law breakers. The Rainbow Serpent's mythology is closely linked to land, water, life, social relationships and fertility.”_

 

“Wikipedia?” Tony guessed.

 

“ _Naturally, Sir. Although I removed unimportant facts.”_

 

“Thanks.”

 

“ _Always, Sir.”_

 

Tony grinned slightly, then relayed Jarvis' information to the others.

 

“ _Great,”_ came Natasha across his bluetooth. _“So this one's like... basically a creation god?”_

 

“ _Not like we haven't dealt with gods before,”_ Steve said dryly. _“Tony, are there any towns nearby?”_

 

“Nope,” he said. “Thing seems to be headed for the desert.”

 

“ _Well, that's something. Can you stop it?”_

 

“Roger that,” Tony said. He put on some speed and circled around in front of the snake. It saw him, but kept onwards. He banked and flew across its path, angling downwards and firing his repulsors into the earth in front of it. The sand bucked and rose up before the snake, bringing it to a curling, hissing halt before a wall of rock and earth.

 

“ _It just busted through Uluru. Do you really think that will hold it?”_ Bruce wondered.

 

“Only need to slow it down,” Tony replied. “Let you guys catch up. Also, are you going to suit up any time soon?”

 

“ _Not if I don't have to,”_ was the grim reply.

 

“It's a _giant. Snake_ ,” Tony said tartly.

 

Then, quite suddenly and quite uncharacteristically reckless, Steve leapt onto the snake's back and ran up to the back of its head. He was atop its head in a moment, and running towards it's nose and Tony knew he couldn't be the only one gaping.

 

Then he intuited what Steve was aiming at and knew it was a good decision. The supersoldier hefted his shield and began to bring it down, intending to slam it into the snake's mouth and prevent it from snapping at them.

 

But it was quick, and apparently very clever because it suddenly rammed the top of its head and nose against the rock wall.

 

“Steve!” Tony bleated in terror and shock, and he heard some of the others echo it.

 

There was no bluetooth answer, and a crumpled, blue-clad figure, made tiny by the immensity of the snake, half-rolled, half-fell down the rock wall as the snake withdrew. His shield clattered after him.

 

The Other Guy was clearly not pleased with this, because he suddenly burst from Bruce's skin whether the doctor liked it or not, and went thundering towards the snake, grabbing it by the tail and hauling. Good thing, too, because it was aiming to bite down on Steve, and the Hulk pulled it out of range. But it retaliated by swinging around and trying to take a bite out of him. He gave it its own tail and roared.

 

“ _Steve,”_ Clint said, already fitting an explosive arrow to his bow and aiming at the creature's mouth as it recoiled from the painful bite it had given itself, hissing wildly.

 

“I got it,” Tony said grimly. “You guys keep that thing occupied.”

 

Steve was still lying where he'd fallen, between the Rainbow Serpent's massive thrashing coils and the wall of rock. It was a dangerous place, even for a serum-enhanced supersoldier. Tony rocketed down and snatched him up.

 

“Cap?” he said. “Cap?!”

 

Steve stirred.

 

“...Shield...” he said.

 

“Don't worry about SHIELD. We're doing our best!” Tony muttered.

 

“No... my... mine...” Steve said, beginning to fight his grip.

 

“Whoa, Cap. We're in the air.”

 

“Can't leave it...” he said.

 

“It'll be fine. We can get it when we put this thing down.”

 

“Promise,” Steve said with sudden intensity, his blue eyes bright.

 

“I-” Tony started, the words catching in his throat in a disconcerting manner. He had to clear his throat and try again. “I promise. I'll get it for you.”

 

Steve smiled at him, open and trusting, and then he passed out. Tony felt a little lightheaded himself. But there was no time for that. He flew back to the plane and put Steve inside it, then turned about and jetted back to the fight.

 

It wasn't pretty.

 

Clint's explosive arrowhead had done some serious damage to one side of the serpent's mouth, but that only seemed to have made it angrier, and it had somehow succeeded in tearing a gash right along the Hulk's back.

 

Tony didn't think he'd ever seen the Hulk bleed before, but he was doing so now, and quite copiously. He could hear Natasha screaming at Bruce to back out of the fight, but of course he ignored her and the snake struck again, sending him flying.

 

“Fuck,” Tony muttered. The Hulk would survive that, of course, but it would take him a while to get back.

 

“ _I can't do shit to this thing,”_ Natasha muttered.

 

Clint grunted and fired another arrow from where he was standing atop the rock wall. Tony didn't even bother to wonder how he'd got there. The arrow exploded against the snake's side, but merely charred the scales, sending two or three pinging off, but nothing more.

 

“We need to concentrate fire on the mouth,” Tony said. “It's the only part we've even impacted on.”

 

“ _Roger that,”_ Clint said.

 

“ _I'm going back to check on Steve. I'm only a liability right now,”_ Natasha grumbled and took off running.

 

The boys didn't even acknowledge her. She would do what she wanted regardless of them.

 

“Barton, I'm gonna give you a lift,” Tony decided. “You're a better shot than me, and we need to get some fire inside its mouth.”

 

Clint just gave a short nod and loaded his bow while Tony flew down. He grabbed Clint at the waist and shot upwards, hovering while the archer drew back his bowstring.

 

“Ready? I'm gonna fly you towards the mouth.”

 

“ _Ready.”_

 

Tony banked and dove towards the mouth and he had to give Clint props for remaining rigid and aimed. When they got close, Clint loosed the arrow, but the thing closed its mouth at exactly the wrong time and the arrow exploded on its snout, increasing its rage, but not slowing it at all.

 

Thunder rumbled.

 

“Great,” Tony muttered. “Now it's gonna rain.”

 

Clint grabbed for another arrow as Tony circled round. Just as they were lining up for another shot, lightning speared down from the clouds and struck the serpent directly between its eyes. It keened and began to fall.

 

“ _Oh, please be Thor,”_ Clint muttered, casting his eyes at the clouds.

 

“Probably just a freak accident that will piss it off more,” Tony muttered back, watching the snake writhe and begin to gather itself.

 

Suddenly, a massive bright white trident dropped from the clouds, all three prongs impaling the head. The serpent twitched twice and lay still.

 

“What the _fuck_?!” came Fury's dulcet tones through their bluetooth.

 

“Did you miss me?”

 

Tony whirled, Clint's limbs flailing crazily.

 

“Thor!” they both cried, grinning. He was hovering with his hammer, grinning back at them.

 

“ _Boy are we glad to see you!”_ Clint added, but Tony was looking behind him to where Loki stood on nothing as easily as though he were standing on the ground.

 

“What's he doing here?”

 

Thor glanced over his shoulder.

 

“I will explain later. Let us return to your hollow metal bird.”

 

“I have to get Steve's shield,” Tony said, passing Clint to Thor.

 

“ _No problem. Just pass me around like a sack of flour...”_

 

But Tony wasn't listening. He had already taken off, circling above the dustcloud to try and locate the shield. It took him some time, circling and backtracking and waiting for the dust to settle somewhat, before he finally saw it winking dully. Relieved, he stooped and flew down to collect it, then headed back to the plane.

 

Thor was leaning over Steve who was muttering angrily at him, despite how groggy he seemed, and how slurred his words were. Tony arrived in time to hear;

 

“...oin' 'ere?! 'S'an 'nmy of th'ole _planet_!”

 

“Wow, he sounds wasted,” Tony said under his breath to Clint, removing his helmet. The archer snickered.

 

“Probably the closest we'll ever get to seeing him actually wasted,” Clint muttered back.

 

Thor was saying something too softly for them to hear while Loki lurked at his shoulder, leering, which didn't help his case in the least.

 

Steve suddenly surged up, grabbing at Thor's breastplate with fisted hands.

 

“G't'im th'fuck off m'plane!” he snarled.

 

“Whoa!” Clint and Tony said together.

 

“Steady on, Caps,” Tony went on. “He um. Loki, he actually finished off the snake.”

 

Loki's eyes slid up to Tony, and the billionaire was suddenly unsure if he'd killed the snake, or if he  _was_ the snake.

 

“I-” Steve started, but he suddenly passed out cold again.

 

“Well. That settles it. Let's get going,” Clint said. He swung into the pilot's seat and fired up the plane, closing the rear hatch. Tony moved to sit beside Steve's head, settling the shield beside its owner on the floor of the plane so it touched his hand. Steve murmured wordlessly, but didn't wake again.


	4. I'm not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been such a while. I've been rehearsing my behind off. Playing Mrs. Lovett in a local production of Sweeney Todd. Enjoy this chapter. :)

_Stark Tower, New York. 4.33 am, Sunday Morning._

 

By the time they landed, Steve was awake, concussion nothing his body couldn't deal with in a short amount of time. He was sitting up, glaring at Loki, who was pretending none of them existed.

 

When the plane opened, the supersoldier took up his shield, waved off the doctors that flocked to him, and stalked off.

 

Thor made to follow, but Loki was hot on his heels, and Tony put up a hand, shaking his head.

 

“I got this,” he said, though why he thought Steve would want to hear from him, even he wasn't certain.

 

He tailed Steve, but it wouldn't have mattered if he'd lost him, because he predictably went to the gym. He struggled out of his shredded jacket and tossed it aside, sweat-damp singlet clinging to him like a second skin.

 

He bypassed the punching bag, however, and went to the mat, turning to Tony and raising his shield.

 

“Your power levels alright?” he asked.

 

“You've got to be kidding. You were just nearly killed,” Tony said, leaving his helmet open, metal hands on metal hips.

 

“I was just actually knocked out,” Steve said tightly. “Not nearly killed.”

 

“Semantics. I'm not fighting you.”

 

“Then you're gonna get hurt,” the supersoldier said grimly, and  _ came at him _ !

 

Tony grunted as Jarvis reflexively snapped his helmet shut, regardless of his opinions on the matter, and instinct had repulsors firing at the floor, somersaulting him easily over Steve's head to land behind him.

 

Steve was coming at him again even as he turned, striking out with the rounded edge of his shield.

 

“Steve!” Tony bleated, limboing beneath the vibranium edge just barely. “Stop!”

 

“Make me!” he demanded, and Tony realised he  _ meant _ it.

 

“No!” Tony danced back.

 

“I'm sick of breaking bags! It doesn't help! Do you have any  _ idea _ how angry I am?!”

 

“About Loki? Geez. Don't let it get to you like that,” Tony said, the last word yelped as Steve kicked out at him and he had to dance back again.

 

“About  _ everything _ ! Everyone I know is dead. Everyone  _ here _ has ten different ways to communicate and I can barely even figure out what they're  _ saying _ half the time, let alone what they're texting, voice mailing, e-mailing, my spacing, youtubing, facebooking or faxing! People are different. They think differently. Now Thor's here and that's great, but he brought Loki along with him?  _ Why _ ? How can I just... just...” He made a frustrated sound and leaped at Tony again.

 

Tony crossed his forearms, catching the edge of the shield in them. Steve didn't even flinch, but the sound echoed through the suit, jarring Tony. A foot came down hard against his bent knee, and something popped, sending a spray of hydraulic fluid across Steve's red boot.

 

He gasped, stumbling back with wide, blue eyes.

 

“Oh. Gosh. Gee. I'm sorry,” he stammered, the shield slipping out of his fingers and bouncing on its edge, then rolling away like a dropped quarter. He rubbed at his face.

 

“It's nothing,” Tony assured him. “My suit takes a beating any time I take it out. It can cop a little stress from Captain America. Jarvis'll fix it.”

 

“I don't want him here, Tony. You can't tell me you're happy about it,” Steve muttered, folding his arms across his chest.

 

Tony shook his head, opening his helmet again.

 

“Not at all,” he agreed. “But he did ice that snake... literally. And Thor wouldn't bring him here if he had another choice.”

 

“Why didn't he have another choice? That's what I want to know.”

 

“I'm sure he'll tell us. You didn't exactly give him time.”

  
  
“That's because I don't know if I can look at that little pissant without punching his lights out.”

 

Tony chuckled.

 

“Oh, Captain. You're so sexy when you're pissed off and cursing.”

 

Every shutter Steve possessed went up. He tensed.

 

“I'm not... I don't...” he said.

 

“Really? Because you can't even say the  _ word _ . And you're  _ very _ quick to jump to denials...” Tony nettled.

 

Steve fisted his hands at his sides.

 

“I'm not...  _ queer _ ,” he said.

 

“Oooh,” Tony said, wincing. “Not a popular term these days, Cap. You might wanna try 'gay' or, if you're feeling particularly politically correct, 'homosexual'.”

 

Steve recoiled, hissing.

 

“I'm none of it,” he growled.

 

“Yeah, I don't believe you.” Tony took a step forwards and watched as Steve predictably took one back. “You know... it's not like it was. It doesn't matter like it did when you were a boy. Lots of people are gay.”

 

“I'm not one of them,” Steve said, mostly through his teeth.

 

“Oh, yeah? You tried it?” Tony wondered. “I'll admit I haven't for a while, but I  _ have _ tried it.” He sucked in a breath, eying Steve up and down. “I'd try it again with you, Captain Rogers...”

 

Steve blushed and Tony wanted to jump him right there. He couldn't meet Tony's eyes.

 

“I don't want to try it,” Steve said. “And anyway, you have a girlfriend.”

 

Tony shut his eyes. Right. Pepper. Pepper. He had to stop forgetting Pepper. He loved Pepper. He really did.

 

When he opened his eyes again, Steve was gone. He let out a long breath, pressing a palm repulsor to his forehead. Even while he was reminding himself he loved Pepper, some part of him was figuring ways to catch Steve out, to sneak a kiss and see if he really hated it as much as he claimed.

 

His eyes fell on Steve's forgotten shield and he smirked.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Stark Tower, New York. 1.00 pm, Sunday Afternoon._

 

Tony flailed awake to the discordant blaring of an alarm that he didn't usually have to deal with because Jarvis would wake him. It was a weird blocky sort of clock radio doing the blaring, and Tony just knew Fury must be responsible for it somehow. He whacked at it until it stopped, then rolled over, groaning.

 

_" Sir, Agent Romanoff wanted me to tell you if you want lunch, you have five minutes thirty seconds to get to the dining room."_

 

Tony muttered things about Agent Romanoff and her parentage, but he did roll out of bed. He pulled on one of his favourite metal band shirts and some ragged jeans, then headed from the room, absently glancing at Steve's shield as he left.

 

Steve was just finishing up when he arrived, and Clint was just starting, looking as wrecked as Tony felt with his cheek against one fist over the sandwich in front of him. The archer's eyes flickered up to him.

 

“Hey,” he said.

 

“Hey,” Tony replied, padding barefoot over to Natasha who shoved a sandwich at him without preamble. He blinked in surprise. “...Thanks...” he said uncertainly.

 

“Don't worry,” she said dryly. “I left the cyanide in my room.”

 

He chuckled and went to sit by Clint, aware of Steve's glance drifting to him and away several times.

 

There wasn't much talking. They were all wiped, and no one wanted to mention the elephant in the room, especially when it walked in trailing Thor.

 

Steve actually curled his lip and pushed his plate away.

 

“I've lost my appetite,” he muttered and stood from the table, sidling past Thor and Loki. He paused at the door. “Stark, I want my shield back.”

 

And he left.

  
  
They all looked at Tony, who just grinned and sat back in his chair. His phone rang, which was even better, because it saved him from having to say anything.

 

“Yup,” he said.

 

_" Hey, Tony, it's me. Look, I know this whole thing with the creatures and Thor arriving is crazy, but I've just had the China branch on the phone and they're having an absolute meltdown. I'll have to go and crisis manage, I think!”_

 

“Isn't that what you have a manager of that branch for, Pep?”

 

" _I know, I know. But it's worse than that.”_

 

“It's date night...”

 

" _Like you haven't interfered with one out of every four,”_ she said with a laugh. " _ Come on. You're a big boy. I'm sure you can find something to do without me.” _

 

He chuckled.

 

“Yeah, I guess so. Stay safe, Pepper.”

 

" _I love you.”_

 

“Me, too,” Tony said and she hung up.

 

He stared at his phone for a short while, then tucked it away and went to retrieve Steve's shield. Instead of taking it to him, however, he took it to his lab, set it against a wall, and began tinkering with the latest version of his suit.

 

Predictably, Steve found him about an hour later.

 

The supersoldier had clearly just showered, his damp hair for once hanging into his blue eyes instead of sitting in its perfect wave. And Tony's lab generally smelt so strongly of hydraulic fluids, oils, welding and the like that whatever soap Steve had used seemed very potent to the billionaire.

 

Tony tapped an absent tattoo against his reactor, meeting Steve's eyes fearlessly. He liked the way it made the blonde squirm if not literally, then figuratively.

 

“My shield,” Steve said eventually.

 

Tony nodded towards it.

 

Steve's eyes flickered to it, then back to Tony like he suspected foul play.

 

“I didn't hurt it,” Tony promised. “I wouldn't. It's one of the few things my Dad made that I actually still respect.”

 

Steve crossed the room to it and Tony recognised the reverence with which his fingertips ran along the rounded surface before he took it up. He got that. It was just how he felt about his suits. They were beautiful and strong and amazing. But above all, they protected him and kept him alive. He had several, but Steve only had one shield. It made sense to Tony suddenly why he was so intense about it.

 

“Hey, Steve...” he said idly. “You know, I could always make you another if that one was magically wrecked.”

 

Steve looked over his shoulder, blinking.

 

“Howard told me this was all the vibranium in the world,” he said.

 

Tony tapped his reactor.

 

“It was. Then I got blood poisoning and nearly died. My core is vibranium now. Didn't you know that?”

 

Steve shook his head, turning to Tony to stare at the electric-blue glow.

 

“Want to see?” Tony offered.

 

Steve lowered his shield, which he'd unconsciously held in a defensive position from the moment he picked it up.

 

“Yes,” he blurted, then as an afterthought; “Please.”

 

Tony lifted his shirt, putting it between his teeth, then twisted and pulled his reactor free. He flipped it, opened it, and carefully took out the vibranium core as it was offered up. He set the little triangle in Steve's hand.

 

Steve studied it, turning it this way and that and watching it reflect the light.

 

“Jeepers,” he said eventually.

 

“Ye-uh,” Tony said through his teeth around his shirt. “I'm pretty amazing. Takes a bit to make, but I'd do it. I'd make enough for a new shield, if you ever needed it.” He cleared his throat absently, the burn in his chest beginning to make itself known.

 

Steve hastily gave him back the core and he set it back in the reactor. He was about to put it back when Steve said;

 

“Can I?”

 

Tony's eyes flicked up to him in surprise. He hesitated.

 

“Why?” he asked.

 

“I... don't know,” Steve said. “It's just... kind of amazing.”

 

His eyes were earnest and, while Tony generally wasn't a fan of people getting their kicks out of playing about with his reactor or his life, this was Steve Rogers. He never asked for anything. He hardly got any kicks these days. He had known Tony's Dad and he was a national treasure. Besides which, he was stupid hot and if he really wanted to press his hands on Tony's chest, who was Tony to argue?

 

He held out the reactor.

 

Steve put his shield aside and took the gently humming machine carefully in his hands.

 

Tony turned it slightly, taking hold of his shirt with his hand so his mouth was properly free to say;

 

“Put it in that way, then give it a quarter turn to the right and push.”

 

Carefully, reverently and – fuck – so intensely, Steve did as he was told.

 

Tony sucked in a breath as the reactor engaged, easing the pain in his chest. His eyelids fluttered and he concentrated on the press of Steve's fingertips around the reactor.

 

“Does it hurt?” Steve asked, innocent like a child.

 

“N-No,” Tony said. Then stronger; “No. It hurts when it's out, not when it goes back in. When it goes back in, the hurting stops.” He looked up at Steve who didn't seem inclined to back away, or take his hand off the humming reactor.

 

“Do you respect this?” the supersoldier asked. “I mean... your Dad invented this originally, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Tony said. “Yeah, this I respect. This and a certain supersoldier.”

 

Steve laughed derisively, and he was suddenly drawing back, leaving the reactor feeling cold.

 

“Right, right. You  _ respect _ me. I believe that.”

 

He rolled his eyes, reaching for his shield again.

 

“I'll grant you I don't show it over-much,” Tony said dryly.

 

“Ever,” Steve said, his defenses beginning to come up again.

 

“Steve,” Tony said intently.

 

Steve paused, eyes suspicious.

 

“Steve... I really do think you're the best of us.”

 

The blonde's brows lifted, eyes going slightly wider.

 

“You're going soft, Tony,” he said eventually.

 

Tony grinned.

  
  
“Probably,” he agreed. “Or maybe it's that you're making me-” He cut himself off just before he took the last crude step.

 

Steve began to blush anyway, clearly intuiting it.

 

“Tony, I told you before, I'm not-”

 

Tony curved his hands over the rim of the shield and pushed it down, using his grip to lever himself up and kiss Steve's protesting mouth. It opened to protest further, but Tony just pressed his tongue forwards, running it over Steve's.

 

The supersoldier made a throaty sound of protest or encouragement, Tony wasn't sure which but he chose to take it as the latter and he tilted his head a little, working to get a response from Steve. A hand fisted in the front of his shirt, over the reactor and for a moment, Tony felt Steve yielding, felt his mouth beginning to soften, he was sure.

 

Then the fisted hand pushed him back and Steve lifted his shield once more.

  
  
“Don't... Don't you...  _ ever _ ...” he whispered hoarsely, and that was it before he bolted from the lab.

 

Tony let out a breath, rubbing absently at his reactor.

 

“No promises, Cap,” he murmured to himself.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

Steve wasn't really watching where he was going, so it really wasn't much of a surprise when he came around a corner and crashed into the weedy little doctor Tony had employed. The boy ended up on his ass, papers flying from his hands.

 

“Oh, sorry,” the supersoldier muttered and bent to help him pick up his work. It looked much as Tony's work always did – far too complicated for him to understand without hours of poring over it. And to be perfectly honest, hours of poring over Sonic Concussion Wave Theory didn't really interest him.

 

“Oh. Um. That's okay,” Xander said hastily as Steve hoisted him effortlessly to his green-with-purple-polkadotted Converse-clad feet. He smiled shyly. “You're. Um. Well, I don't mind crashing into you, Captain, sir.”

 

“Steve is fine,” Steve said.

 

“Right. Steve,” Xander said, giving a snorty giggle.

 

Steve smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes, used to hero worship by now. He shook Xander's hand.

 

“I know you're working hard for us. It means a lot. Thanks a million,” he said.

 

“Not like it's without its compensations,” Xander said demurely and Steve gave a genuine laugh.

 

“Yes, I suppose there is that,” he agreed.

 

Xander bent to gather together the last of his papers.

 

“Speaking of work...” he said.

 

Steve nodded absently.

 

“As you say,” he said and wandered off. Xander watched him go, beaming, then headed off himself.


	5. Back Off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am alive! Don't worry, I haven't given up on this fic, and I don't tend to. Life just tends to catch up with me at times, and you unfortunately suffer long gaps because of it! The next chapter is pretty much already written, so I'll put it up much sooner than I did this one!
> 
> I hope you all had a great Christmas and New Years!

_Stark Tower, New York. 10.20 am, Monday Morning._

 

Steve had been up early, and out jogging for a good two hours, trying to douse his thoughts in physical activity. It wasn't working. He could still think while he jogged, and he just kept thinking about Tony Stark.

 

He had tried to be friends with the mercurial billionaire, but it always ended badly. They argued more often than not. And now Tony was going around kissing him? It didn't make any sense to him. He couldn't fathom the reason. Especially given that Tony had a girlfriend.

 

There were only two conclusions he could come to. Either Tony was fucking with him, or Tony considered him just another notch on his belt. Neither notion was a pleasant one. They became even less so when Steve allowed himself to think about kissing Tony and how it had made him feel.

 

It wasn't altogether unpleasant.

 

Steve dragged his hand through his damp hair as he came into the kitchen, looking for a glass of water. Natasha was there, idly sharpening a knife.

 

“Hey, Steve,” she said. “Good run?”

 

He shrugged, sculling a whole glass of water then filling himself another from the jug in the fridge and sipping more slowly.

 

She eyed him.

 

“Something on your mind?” she wondered astutely.

 

“No,” he said, perhaps a little hastily. “Why would you say that?”

 

She smiled secretively.

 

“No reason,” she said, still watching him.

 

He shifted his weight uncomfortably.

 

“It's nothing,” he said.

 

“I didn't say a word. I'm not asking anything.”

 

Steve narrowed his eyes at her. She didn't even look at him, still working the whetstone she was using against the blade of the knife.

 

“Tony kissed me,” he blurted eventually.

 

Now she looked up, one brow arching decidedly over one eye.

 

“I'm sorry?” she said, for once clearly taken aback. She hadn't even really been trying to get anything out of him. It just sort of... happened. She was too good at what she did.

 

“...Nothing...” he said. “Nevermind.”

 

“No. No way, Cap. You don't get to verbal diarrhoea that at me then run off.”

 

Steve glanced over his shoulder and slid closer, dropping into a chair next to her.

 

“Tony kissed me,” he said miserably.

 

She stared at him for so long he wondered if she was actually going to say anything. But she was apparently just processing because eventually she said;

 

“Are you sure?”

 

He was a little bit insulted by that.

 

“Of course I'm sure. I know what a kiss is,” he snapped.

 

“Oh. Yeah. No. I didn't mean that. I meant... uh... like do you mean...” She was floundering a bit and he was frowning harder, more insulted with every second that passed. “Hang on. Hang on. Just give me a minute to actually think about this and be coherent.”

 

He scowled at her for that minute, then finally she took a breath.

 

“Okay. Yeah. So what I mean is... was it like... the kind of kiss he would probably give anyone when he's drunk, or... or was it... a real kiss.”

 

“Define 'real',” Steve muttered.

 

“Real what?” It was Clint, rolling in clearly fresh off the firing range with his bow slung over his shoulder.

 

“Real kissing,” Natasha informed him, despite Steve's horrified face.

 

“Define it?” Clint clarified and she nodded. “Oh, that's easy. It's real if there's tongue.”

 

Steve didn't want to talk about this with Clint in the room, but Natasha was looking at him and she said;

 

“So? Was it real?”

 

“Wait. What?” Clint demanded. “Whose been kissing Steve?”

 

Steve stared and started to go red around the ears.

 

“No one,” said another voice – the very last voice Steve wanted to hear just now. “He saw it.”

 

Clint looked instantly disinterested.

 

“Oh, so it was you,” he said boredly, because Tony kissing people was not big news, and went to the fridge.

 

Natasha's eyes went narrow as she looked between Tony and Steve behind Clint's back and the super soldier grew redder yet.

 

“So was there tongue?” she asked.

 

Steve opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again.

 

“Yes,” Tony said, his eyes catching Steve's. “Yes, there was.”

 

Steve blushed and dropped his eyes.

 

“Wow. Just. ...Wow,” Natasha said. Suddenly, she was standing, catching Tony's arm, and dragging him bodily from the room, leaving a blinking Steve and Clint in her wake. When the latter made to follow her, she glared at him until he subsided, muttering.

 

“What d'you suppose that was about?” he asked.

 

Steve just shook his head, avoiding looking at the archer as he went to make his breakfast. Clint's eyes narrowed. He was suddenly and acutely aware that he was  _ missing something _ and everyone else knew about it.

 

“What's going on?” he demanded of the blonde.

 

Steve shrugged.

 

“I don't pretend to know what either Tony or Natasha is thinking most of the time,” he said earnestly.

 

Clint took him at his word, because Captain America was a shit liar. Or so he thought. He shrugged and went to make coffee, shoulder to shoulder with Steve, who almost instantly relaxed, because he took comfort from being shoulder to shoulder with a fellow soldier. At least it was something he understood.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

“Just what the hell are you playing at?” Natasha hissed, right in Tony's face the moment they were behind closed doors in a room she knew wasn't bugged – her own.

 

He gave her his best 'I have no idea what you're talking about' press look.

 

She didn't buy it. In fact, she actually gave him a shake.

 

“Hey! Watch the goods, sweetheart!” he said, pulling away from her. “It's none of your business.”

 

“Oh, yes it is,” she said, backing down not one inch. She was toe-to-toe with him, and he had the grace to look a little afraid. He knew he was no match for her suitless.

 

“Um,” he said, sounding a lot calmer than he was. “No, it really isn't.”

 

“Um,” she mocked back, fisting a hand in his shirt  _ right against his Reactor _ . “Yes. It is.” She pushed her knuckles forwards and he bared his teeth at her.

 

“Back off,” he said warningly.

 

“Oh, please,” was the derisive reply, and she didn't even dignify his warning with any other response. Instead, she said; “You're the one who needs to back off.”

 

“You've got hold of me,” he said dryly.

 

“You know what I mean. Kissing Steve? What's that about?”

 

Tony shrugged, not the least reason being he wasn't really sure what it was about himself.

 

“He's not just some guy, Tony,” Natasha said, releasing her hold but not moving even an inch back.

 

“I know that,” Tony said defensively.

 

“Yeah? Then why in God's name would you be kissing him when you have a girlfriend and he's straight as an arrow.”

 

“Oh, no he's not,” the billionaire was quick to argue. “He's not pure as the driven snow like you lot seem to think. He's as bent as a paperclip. He liked it.”

 

She punched him.

 

He'd been slapped by a lot of women in his time, but punched by one? Never. He ended up on his arse, and in a half a second she was crouched over him, resembling the deadly spider she was named for in all but limb number.

 

“Notwithstanding the fact that Steve is, without a doubt, the purest and best of us, you have a girlfriend. One who is too good for you by far. What about her?”

 

“What do you care about Pepper?” Tony growled.

 

Her eyes narrowed.

 

“We  _ all _ care about her, you insufferable dick,” she growled. “And we care about him. And, god preserve us, we care about you too. This will end in tears. Back off. Stop playing with him.”

 

He wasn't playing, he realised with sudden clarity. He really wasn't. Whatever this was, it definitely wasn't a game, though he couldn't deny he took some thrill out of the hunt. He knew it wasn't right and he knew it wasn't fair and he knew he was being a selfish bastard, but the thought of stopping turned his stomach.

 

He wasn't about to tell  _ The _ Spy's pet Spider that, though.

 

“I can do what I want,” he said.

 

Her mouth twisted.

 

“Right, because you're Tony fucking Stark,” she said, turning more than just the actual curse word into a curse. “You're going to break someone's heart.”

 

He just looked at her, his jaw set, and in the end she snarled and climbed off him.

 

“Get out.”

 

He knew he should say something, try to explain, but he was too stubborn. Instead, he said;

 

“Gonna tattle to Pepper?”

 

“Not until you have enough rope to hang yourself,” she replied darkly.

 

He grinned.

 

“I'm too selfish to hang myself,” he retorted, and left.

 

When he came back to the kitchen, Loki was loitering outside the closed door, a hand held just below his ribs like he was pained, and the twist in his mouth saying the same. Immediately he saw Tony, he straightened up and dropped his hand, fixing a look of cool distance on his elegant features.

 

Tony studied him.

 

“They put a spell on you, didn't they?” he said.

 

Loki didn't answer but he took a step closer to the door, almost plastered against it and his mouth twisted again without his permission.

 

“Is it distance?” the billionaire wondered. “Distance from Thor, or something Thor's got? It hurts you.”

 

Loki just glared at him.

 

“Easy enough to get an answer,” Tony said. He reached out and grabbed the sash across Loki's chest, jerking him away from the door and across to the other side of the hallway. The would-be god made a quiet, short keening sound and folded his arms around his torso, dropping to his knees.

 

“You have proven your genius, Stark,” he said thinly, sarcastically.

 

Tony let him go and he scrambled back to the wall.

 

“I think your people are more genius than I am. Though I don't think it's very fair to Thor. Who's it supposed to punish – you or him?”

 

Loki laughed shortly.

 

“Neither,” he said. “This is rehabilitation. It is mine to watch my brother and learn proper princely behaviour from him.”

 

Tony considered that.

 

“I suppose the idea is sound. So why are you out here?”

 

Loki sighed.

 

“My brother is trying to reason with the Captain.”

 

“Ah. I better go see who's killing whom, then,” Tony said and entered the kitchen.

 

“...can use no magic unless I allow it, and he cannot go more than thirty paces from my presence,” Thor was saying, voice a lot calmer than Tony would have expected. It seemed Steve was the one who was losing control...

 

“He's fooled you before! That was how he got out on the airship!”

 

“This is very much different, my friend. It is not mine to release the spell. All I can do is ease it to allow him some use of his magic.”

 

“And what if he kills you with it?!” Steve demanded coldly.

 

“Then he will die also. His life force is bound up with mine.”

 

“He definitely can't go far,” Tony put in helpfully.

 

Steve recoiled and almost hissed.

 

“How would you know?” he demanded.

 

“Saw it.” Tony jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Out there. I pulled him away. It's pretty instant.”

 

Thor scowled a little.

 

“He is not to be toyed with,” he growled.

 

“I wasn't toying. I was testing a hypothesis. We have to know everything in order to protect ourselves.”

 

“Yeah, he kind've worked us over last time he was here,” Clint added. “We're still cleaning up the mess.”

 

Thor fell silent for a moment.

 

“I suppose you are right,” he allowed eventually. “But I would appreciate if you did not do it again.”

 

“I've no intention of doing it again,” Tony said.

 

“I might,” Steve muttered.

 

“No, you won't. You're too honourable for that,” the billionaire said dryly.

 

Steve fell silent and Tony knew he was right. After a short while he said; “He puts one  _ toe _ outta line...” He let it trail off, and stalked from the room.

 

Thor went to let Loki in and the mage almost fell into the room, sucking in a breath. Thor steadied him carefully and gave a single nod. Loki nodded back.

 

Clint shifted his weight uncomfortably.

 

“This is one weird situation,” he muttered.

 

“Believe me, it is hardly comfortable from my side either,” Loki said dryly.

 

“Are you even sorry for what you did?”

 

Loki peered at the archer for a long moment, then his eyes slid to Thor.

 

“Yes,” he said softly. “You may not believe me, but I am sorry.”

 

_ Because it hurt Thor... _ Tony realised, tapping his nails absently against his reactor.  _ Interesting. _

 

“ _Sir,”_ came Jarvis in his bluetooth.

 

“Yeah?” Tony replied, turning away from the others.

 

“ _Captain Rogers is requesting access to your bikes, sir. He seems... agitated...”_

 

“I bet,” Tony muttered. “I'm coming.”

 

“ _Very good, Sir.”_

 

Tony discreetly left the kitchen and headed down to the garage.

 

Steve was in the corridor outside the garage, leaning against the door with his arms folded.

 

“Jarvis said he was tattling,” he said dryly.

 

“Well, they  _ are _ my bikes,” Tony pointed out.

 

“Had to leave mine behind when SHIELD came for me,” Steve said miserably.

 

Tony understood that misery. It came from having to let go of something you'd worked hard on.

 

“You do some work on it?” he hazarded.

 

“Some?” Steve echoed. “I practically rebuilt it. Got my hands on what was left of a 1940 Crocker.”

 

“No shit,” Tony said in awe. “How'd you manage that?”

 

“People will tell you most anything when you're Captain America,” Steve said, a twitch of a smile finally peeking through his glower. “And sell you most anything for less than they might sell it to others.”

 

Tony's mouth twitched too.

 

“Isn't that an abuse of your power?”

 

“Not at all. I didn't ask them to sell it for less, they just did.”

 

“Where is it? I could easily have it collected.”

 

“Really?” Steve said hopefully. “You'd do that?”

 

“Of course,” Tony said with a self-deprecating shrug. “No problem.”

 

“Gee... thanks... I'd really appreciate that.”

 

“Yeah, well. It'll be cheaper than having you smash up one of mine in a righteous anger.”

 

Tony grinned to lighten the words and Steve flickered a smile back at him, though it was a touch uncertain.

 

“It's a kick in the balls, I know,” Tony said eventually. “Having him here. But it's too hard on Thor to argue over it. Seems to me like he wasn't given much choice in the matter himself.”

 

Steve regarded him for a long moment, then sighed.

 

“I suppose so... but he did destroy half of New York.”

 

“Yes. But don't forget, we destroyed the other half.”

 

Steve snorted in amusement.

 

“I suppose that's true.”

 

“Of course it is. I'm Tony Stark.”

 

Steve rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. It was infinitely better when Steve smiled.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Stark Tower, New York. 2.47pm Monday Afternoon._

 

Alarms started blaring, naturally, just as Steve was in the middle of a pleasingly hot shower. He had to hand it to Tony – the shower heads in this place were stupidly, awesomely huge.

 

He sighed and called;

 

“Jarvis, what's the ruckus?”

 

“ _Another disturbance, Captain Rogers. Mr. Stone reports ice forming in the Sahara Desert.”_

 

“Ice... Fantastic,” Steve sighed. He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He hated the cold...

 

Nevertheless, he suited up and boarded the quinjet, because he didn't have it in him to do anything else.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Ahaggar Mountains, Sahara Desert, Africa. 8.19pm, Monday Evening._

 

Ice was an understatement. There shouldn't be any in these rocky, sheer mountain ranges, for while it wasn't always exceptionally hot (compared to other areas of the Sahara) it was arid and dry. But there it was, coating the most impressive peak in the range, Mount Tahat. The ice glistened in the slowly setting sun, but didn't appear to be melting at all.

 

Tony glanced at Steve. He looked as composed and ready as ever, his shield slung on his back, but Tony wasn't so sure. Especially since Loki stood just behind him, at Thor's shoulder. Tony saw him flinch when Loki spoke;

 

“There is nothing natural about this...”

 

“Tell us something we don't know,” Clint said from the pilot's seat, Natasha glancing back at Loki.

 

Steve's jaw ticked.

 

“Can you find somewhere to set us down?” he asked.

 

“Negative, Cap,” Clint said. “Least not close enough. You'll have to jump.”

 

Steve nodded, holding out a hand to Tony.  
  
“Lift?” he asked.

 

Tony grinned.

 

“Any time, Cap,” he said and flipped his helmet closed, then took the gloved hand.

 

“Thor, you stay here with Clint and Natasha. You and Loki will have to fly them over when Clint finds somewhere to land.”

 

“Of course, Captain,” Thor said, though he didn't look pleased.

 

Steve didn't acknowledge the look at all. He just gave Tony a sharp nod, locking his fingers around the man's wrist. Tony did the same and they leapt from the quinjet together.

 

There was a moment of peaceful silence, just the two of them and the rushing air and the orange-to-inky-blue sky of sunset. Steve actually smiled.

 

Then the mountain exploded, massive chunks of ice and rock shooting everywhere.

 

“ _Hold on, Cap!”_ Tony called through their comms and pulled some spine-snapping evasive manoeuvres, blasting a couple of chunks as well.

 

Steve wasn't idle. He used the shield to defend them more than once and his impressive reflexes to rebound some smaller pieces with a kick or punch. As the dust and ice began to settle, an eerie, three-toned howl echoed around the mountain range.

 

Tony slowed and came to a hover, Steve hanging below him, and they both sucked in a breath when they made out the creature standing in the ruin of the mountain.

 

“ _Probability indicates-”_ Jarvis started.

 

“Yeah, I think I know this one. Cerberus, right?” Tony muttered.

 

“ _Affirmative, Sir.”_

 

“I never knew it had snakes on its head...” Steve commented.

 

“ _Cerberus or Kerberos, in Greek and Roman mythology, is a multi-headed (usually three-headed) dog, or "hellhound" with a serpent's tail, a mane of snakes, and a lion's claws. He guards the entrance of the underworld to prevent the dead from escaping and the living from entering. Cerberus is featured in many works of ancient Greek and Roman literature and in works of both ancient and modern art and architecture, although the depiction of Cerberus differs across various renditions. The most notable difference is the number of his heads: Most sources describe or depict three heads; others show Cerberus with two or even just one; a smaller number of sources show a variable number, sometimes as many as fifty or even one-hundred,”_ Jarvis supplied.

 

“Well,” Steve remarked dryly. “At least it doesn't have fifty, or even one-hundred heads...”

 

“The snakes are enough,” Tony replied. “Jarvis, that mythology doesn't say  _ anything _ about ice. So... what's with all the ice?”

 

“Unknown, Sir, though one might postulate it is due to the coldness of death.”

 

“Fantastic,” Steve muttered. “Alright. Let's do it.”

 

“Music to my ears,” Tony said and turned in the air, rocketing down towards the three heads. “Hey, this thing won't grow back heads like that damned Hydra, will it?”

 

“ _Unlikely, Sir. No mythology regarding the Cerberus grants it that ability.”_

 

“Great.”

 

“Drop me on it's back. I'll see if I can take down one of the heads,” Steve said.

 

“With  _ what _ ?!” Tony cried, but Steve had already let go of Tony's wrist, and was beginning to slide through his grip. If he didn't let go as well, the perfectly-timed jump the super soldier's brain had calculated would be ruined.

 

Tony opened his hand and watched Steve free-fall.

 

The Captain landed perfectly between the broad shoulders of the demon dog, going virtually unnoticed as Tony took the attention of the three heads by zipping around its ears. Steve ran up the muscle-corded neck of the leftmost head and crouched, waiting until it snapped upwards. He used the momentum to jump as high as he could, then tucked his shield below his feet and drove straight down towards the cranium.

 

The sound of the impact was not unlike the one time Thor had struck the vibranium with Mjolnir. The yellowed eyes rolled back in the head and it dropped down limp, Steve leap-frogging back up to the junction of its neck and the shoulders.

 

The other two heads howled, the snakes that made up their manes lifting and hissing. They swung around, eyeballing Steve, growled and began to bark at him. Each bark expelled a breath so icy-cold, Steve could feel it deep in his bones. He ducked behind his shield, but ice began to form on it.

 

Terror struck to his heart as the ice crept over his forearm and up his bicep. He forgot every lesson he'd ever learned, every tactical thought he'd ever had, and before he knew it, his boots were frozen to the furred skin beneath them.  
  
“No, no, no,” he said over and over again, aware of but unable to do anything about the fact that his whole team could hear him over the comms.

 

“ _Steve, I'm coming!”_ Tony's urgent tones barely reached him.  _ “Hold on.” _

 

But he couldn't. His sanity was slipping away from him, his worst nightmare crawling up his legs and down his arms. The cold seeped through his suit, through his skin and muscle, through to his very heart.

 

“ _Tony,”_ he whispered.

 

It was the last Tony heard from him before ice closed over his head from the repetitive barking of the two conscious heads.

 

Tony grit his teeth, and flew in a shallow downwards curve, both arms reaching out to snatch Steve literally from the jaws of death.

 

_ Wow, that was cheesy _ , he had time to think to himself before proximity warnings blared and flashed across his HUD, the monster dog heads snapping at his heels as he jerked Steve's boots free of the icy encasement.

 

His one thought was to get Steve away, Cerberus be damned. He didn't care. Jarvis' readings told him the blonde's vitals were slowed to nearly nothing, his body temperature way, way below normal. He shot away from ground zero, passing the others on their way in.

 

They all drew to a momentary halt. The others took one look at Steve, coated in ice that didn't seem to be melting, and Natasha said;

 

“ _We got this, Tony. Get him home.”_

 

Tony nodded.

 

“ _Jarvis, all power to boot thrusters,”_ he barked, and rocketed off.

 

“ _Unbox Shades, Jarvis,”_ Tony was saying as he flew.  _ “Reverse its repulsors and re-wire them to create heat  _ inside _ the heat-resistant plating.” _ His mind ticked over, he glanced down at Steve.  _ “Uh... he's never gonna fit... Um. Synthesise some thermal blankets, um... you know... metallized polyethylene terephthalate. We'll fill the gaps with those.” _

 

“ _Yes, Sir,”_ Jarvis said.

 

Tony continued to give orders as he flew.


	6. The Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy. Hur hur.

_?, ?. 6.28pm, Monday Evening._

 

The Trumpeter, as he liked to call himself, licked his lips as he watched the monitors, hacked global satellites providing him a blow-by-blow view of the fight with the Cerberus, sans Captain America and Iron Man. It took them a lot longer, but they managed to take down the three-headed dog with a combination of the Hulk's sheer bulk and Thor's lightning.

 

He growled, hands fisting, and kicked over a chair. Well, at least if he was lucky, Captain America would die...

 

Pushing his wheeled office chair over to another screen, The Trumpeter typed rapidly on a keyboard, entering coordinators in his Sonic Concussion device. Hopefully the next thing he woke would take them all out for good...

 

_Stark Tower, New York. 7.32 pm, Monday Evening._

 

Tony touched down and raced inside the Tower, thundering immediately down into his workshop. Shades, a suit he had developed specifically for heat resistance, stood ready.

 

“You're amazing, Jarvis.”

 

“ _My thanks, Sir. I have made the requested adjustments to the suit, but I cannot reverse the repulsors myself, so it is not yet able to generate heat within.”_

 

“Roger that,” Tony said. He set Steve carefully down on the couch and, pulling off his gauntlets and helmet, hurried to make the adjustments as quickly as he could while Jarvis showed him a real-time representation of Steve's vital organs. They were all shutting down, but Tony didn't know if it was another version of the stasis his body had gone into in Antarctica or if he was dying.

 

But he'd read the file from when Steve was pulled out of the ice (pretty much every file on Steve, truth to tell). A traitor voice in the back of his head began to point out every little reading that dropped below what he remembered.

 

“ _Sir,”_ Jarvis said after a time. _“His condition is deteriorating.”_

 

Steve's lips were going blue, Tony could see even through the coating of ice.

 

“Done. Done,” he said hastily.

 

He heaved Steve's doubly-heavy frame over to the open suit and awkwardly managed to get him inside. His predictions of it's not fitting were clearly correct. He taped sections of the thermal blanket material he'd asked Jarvis to synthesise to the gaps, sealing any and all spaces so it was completely airtight, except for the mouth and nose.

 

Swinging around, he clunked over to the console he'd wired the suit to, hastily typing instructions into it.

 

The reactor in the chest of the suit whirred to life and the repulsors – palms, boots and chest – began to hum. They were red, though, and gave off no actual repulsive energy, reflecting it instead into the metal of the suit as heat.

 

“ _Suit temperature rising, Sir,”_ Jarvis said.

 

Tony nodded grimly.

 

“Tell me when it reaches Cap's usual body temp,” he said. “And get me out of this suit.”

 

He moved across the room to where Jarvis was extending the arms that took off his suit. That accomplished, he poured himself a stiff whiskey and waited.

 

“ _Shades is maintaining Captain Rogers' average body temperature, Sir, but Captain Rogers himself remains much lower.”_

 

He gave Tony a reading. The billionaire grimaced, glancing at the humming suit.

 

“Give it ten minutes, and show me the readouts again.”

 

Ten minutes later, there was no change.

 

“Up the temperature of the suit by ten degrees,” he ordered.

 

This continued for some time, until _Tony_ could feel the heat coming off the metal, it was so intense. Eventually, Jarvis said;

 

“ _The Captain's body temperature is not elevating any further, Sir. The suit is about to fail, possibly injuring or killing him. I recommend you take him out, now. His breathing, heart rate and circulation are much closer to acceptable range, and he is regaining consciousness.”_

 

Tony sighed, pushing his hand through his hair, but he nodded.  
  
“Open it up,” he said.

 

Jarvis did so.

 

A cloud of steam from the melted ice, trapped within the confines of the suit hissed upwards and outwards and the second the support of the suit was gone, Steve's body fell limply forwards.

 

Tony caught him, just barely, struggling with his weight sans suit, and managed to get him to the couch, which he had pulled out into its rarely-used bed form. Bruce's idea, that. If Tony was going to spend nights down here, he should at least have a bed to sleep in, he thought.

 

Steve's eyes flickered open and his teeth almost immediately began chattering.

 

“T-T-T-Tony?” he asked in confused fear.

 

“Shh, Cap. I got you. It's okay. Shh.”

 

He efficiently stripped the Captain down to nothing, the soaking material doing nothing to aid Steve's further warming up. He bundled blankets around the man and brushed his wet hair back from his forehead.

 

“Th-The ice. T-T-Tony. I... w-w-was in the i-i-ice ag-g-g-gain,” he said, blue eyes wide and wild and frightened in a way Tony had never seen.

 

“No. No, Steve. Different ice,” Tony said reassuringly. “We were fighting that Cerberus thing, remember?”

 

Steve shook his head, eyes darting around the room.

 

“W-w-where... I-I-I...”

 

“You're in my workshop, Steve.” Tony tried to soothe him, but gentle wasn't exactly a part of his make up, generally speaking.

 

“N-N-N-No... the... the i-i-ice... I'm s-s-s-s-so c-c-c-cold...” Steve whispered, closing his eyes again.

 

“Whoa. Whoa, Cap. Don't check out on me, buddy.” He patted Steve's cold face.

 

Steve opened his eyes again, gaze a little fevered, which was odd given his temperature. His eyes darted and a tear slid down his cheek.

 

“T-T-Tony... I d-d-don't want t-t-t-t-to... th-the i-i-i-ce.”

 

“It's okay. It's okay, you're not going back in the ice. I won't let it happen.”

 

Steve sniffed, shivering in his blanket cocoon. His fingernails were still blue where his hands curled over the edges. Tony curled his own hands over them, rubbing a little. No wonder Steve believed he was in the ice – he felt like it.

 

The blonde looked up at him, lower (still tinged with blue) lip pushing out, eyelashes damp.

 

“I'm s-s-so... _cold_ ,” he said, and this time it wasn't afraid or upset, it was just _resigned_ . Like he was _used_ to being cold. Like it was a natural state of being for him, and he would never warm up again.

 

That did it.

 

Tony stripped out of the bodysuit he'd had on under the suit down to his boxers and burrowed into the blanket cocoon behind Steve. The soldier immediately tensed up, but Tony just started trying to rub heat into his shoulders and back, hands making broad, massaging strokes.

 

Steve's tenseness gave way only to constant trembling in the cold that rolled off his body. Even Tony could feel it, seeping into his fingers.

 

“Fuck,” he said roughly, unable to fathom why Steve just wasn't warming up any further.

 

Steve quite suddenly and quite unexpectedly rolled over, his muscled arms like two snakes around Tony's torso, pulling him in close.

 

“You're s-s-s-s-so warm,” he stammered.

 

Tony didn't _feel_ warm. Almost immediately, all he could feel was the cold of Steve's skin, across his back like two icicles and pressed right along his front like an entire glacier.

 

“You're so fucking _cold_ ,” he muttered, and brought his hands up, trying again to rub warmth into Steve's skin.

 

After a few moments, he finally realised just what situation he was in. Nearly naked. Steve wrapped around him. Rubbing the super soldier's chest. He swallowed, his hands stilling until Steve shifted and said;

 

“D-d-d-don't s-st-stop. It. It's b-b-better.”

 

 _Better?_ Tony's mind echoed. _Better? Well. Well, if it's_ better _, then..._

 

It was entirely scientific. Entirely medical.

 

He kissed Steve.

 

At first Steve went tense and began to pull away, but the warmth he sought virtually dripped off Tony's tongue and in the end, he kissed back. Tentative at first, then hungrier, needier.

 

It was Tony who eventually drew back, panting.

 

“Steve, I don't think-” he started, trying to be mature, trying to put this in perspective, _trying_ , dammit he _was trying_!

 

Steve kissed him again and he lost all sense of perspective. Well, except perhaps for the perspective of 'who the hell am I to argue with Captain America?'

 

One of Steve's hands was in his hair – cradling him or holding him in place, he wasn't sure but he didn't mind. Clearly Steve had some practise at least in this. Either that or his natural (well... sort of...) physical talents extended to learning to kiss really well really fast. It was possible, Tony reflected, and found his mind drifting to probabilities and equations, until he became suddenly aware of a cold hand against his waist.

 

“Tony,” Steve breathed against his mouth. “T-T-Tony... please... I d-d-d-don't wanna be... b-be c-c-old any more.”

 

“Oh, sweetheart. Baby. Darling. _Steve_. I've got you. It's okay. I'll warm you up.”

 

He pressed Steve onto his back and dragged kisses down his torso and stomach, disappearing inside the blanket cocoon. He felt Steve shift uncertainly and he paused, waiting. Much as he wanted to do this, if Steve backed out, he refused to force him.

 

“T-T-Tony...” the super soldier said, tone drenched with uncertainty.

 

Tony slid up again so he could meet his gaze, stretched out along the cold length of his shivering body.

 

“It's okay,” he said reassuringly.

 

“I'm n-n-not...” Steve stammered. “I d-d-don't... do... I'm n-not _queer_.”

 

Tony hated that word. He knew Steve didn't know any better, but it was such an unsubtle _insult_. The idea that a sexual preference other than the norm was queer. Weird and strange. So weird and strange that it had a name that said so.

 

“That-” Tony started to say, but Jarvis cut him off.

 

“ _May I inform you that Captain Rogers' body temperature has risen another degree in the past five minutes. One may theorise that this is more than simple cold. Cerberus mythology always has it guarding the doorway or river or crossing into Death. Perhaps the only way to stave of the cold of Death is through the act that most confirms life for human beings.”_

 

They stared at each other and the smallest grin actually broke through Steve's chattering teeth.

 

“Jarvis, really. Didn't I raise you not to romantisize things?

 

“I-I-Is... he t-t-trying to s-s-s-s-say...” Steve started.

 

Tony arched his brows and gave a laconic shrug, helping him out, because god knew it was taking him ten times as long to say anything at the moment.

 

“I think he's saying we've _got_ to fuck to warm you back up, because you're literally cold as Death.”

 

He didn't have enough heat in him to blush, but Tony could tell he would have if he could.

 

“D-D-Do you hav... have to b-be so c-c-crass?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” Tony growled with a waggle of his brows and Steve was actually giving a huffing laugh when he kissed him.

 

There were no more protests. It was like being given a scientific reason to do this freed Steve from his reservations and 40's morals. Not a case of 'I want to do this', but of 'I have to do this'. It was bullshit and, in some ways, Tony hated it, but it wasn't as if he was going to say no. Especially given that there was every possibility Steve could die if they stopped.

 

Or so he told himself. Nevermind that he'd _wanted_ to do this for a while.

 

Steve's cold hands rested at his waist and the kiss was lazy and easy, like they'd done it a thousand times. He stretched against the super soldier's long body, feeling it flex and shift beneath him and, god, he was made of muscle. Not a wasted millimeter of flesh on him.

 

“Tony,” Steve breathed into his mouth, and even his breath was cold, but his voice was heated.

 

“Oh, say it again, Cap,” Tony murmured, once more disappearing into the blankets as he brushed kisses down Steve's cold torso.

 

“Tony,” Steve obliged, each kiss a pleasant burst of heat deep in the cold that reminded him so horribly sharp of the ice. “Tony.”

 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, his sense of what was right and what wasn't was clamouring for attention, but it was completely overwhelmed by cold and instinct. Instinct told him he needed to warm up, and Tony was like the sun at the moment, giving off the heat he couldn't seem to produce. And he was willing to take it, like a snake, modulating its heat only through that of something else.

 

The burst of it that spread through him when Tony's mouth closed over his length had him twisting in pleasure more than just the obvious. He clenched his teeth, but a groan still pushed through them, sounding in his ears and reassuring him he was actually still alive and, more importantly, still awake. One hand pushed down into the covers to slide into Tony's hair, feeling his movement, his vitality, his _life_.

 

One thing Tony had in spades was life. He was full to the brim with it, never still, always pacing or talking or working with his hands. Steve had always envied it. Now he needed it.

 

“Tony,” he said again, breathless. He didn't know what else to say, had even less idea what to do. At least he wasn't stuttering any more. That must mean he was warming up a little.

 

He certainly felt like it. Heat radiated out from where Tony's mouth worked. Heat and pleasure and soon he was doing more than groaning through his teeth. They had parted, allowing low moans and elongated 'ah' sounds free. He shifted in the blankets, pushing at their confines a little, and they came loose, giving him the freedom to push his second hand into Tony's hair.

 

Tony drew away, licking at the head between words as he said; “Easy, Cap, easy. I got you, baby. Do I ever got you...”

 

“Tony,” was the only reply Steve could make.

 

Tony laughed, soft and not at all mocking. He kissed at the super soldier's muscled, flexing thighs.  
  
“I know,” he murmured reassuringly. “It's alright, baby.”

 

Steve's hands reached for him, the blankets coming looser yet, and Tony let the blonde drag him back up. The press of his body against Tony's own wasn't as cold any more. Steve kissed him, searching and needy and with desperate longing, and Tony wondered how long he had denied what he really wanted.

 

The billionaire slid his knees to either side of Steve's hips, slowly rotating his own and a chest-deep moan shuddered through the blonde. He slid his hands up Tony's sides, fingers curling in to rest against his shoulder blades. Tony did it again and Steve's head tipped back, another groan easing from between his teeth.

 

Poetry, that's what he was. Pure poetry, and it had nothing to do with the bottle. The bottle was just a catching up of his physicality to his potential, Tony decided. He was all over special.

 

“Oh, Captain Rogers,” Tony cooed, sitting up, the blankets sliding down his spine to pool about their hips. “Oh, you're beautiful.”

 

He slid his hands down Steve's chest, watching the play of muscle beneath warming skin. Steve's own hands twitched against Tony's back, and he blushed a little, eyes skating away.

 

“It's okay, Steve,” the billionaire soothed. “Go with it, baby.”

 

Steve looked up at him again.

 

“G-Go with what?” he asked uncertainly. “I d-don't know what t-to do.” Okay, so the stutter was still there, but it wasn't nearly as bad.

 

Tony grinned.

 

“There aren't any rules, Steve...” he assured him gently.

 

Steve's hands ran hesitantly down Tony's back again, fingers tucking into the waistband of his boxers. His fingers splayed, pressing Tony's hips against his own. Tony smiled and rolled them slowly. They both groaned.

 

“C-can I...?” Steve asked hesitantly, his hands sliding up to press at Tony's shoulders.

 

Tony sat up a little, nodding, though he'd no idea what Steve wanted to do. He'd let him do anything.

 

The blonde levered himself up on his elbows and tipped his head, pressing into Tony's space to curl his tongue around a nipple. Tony's lips drew back for a soft 'Nn', pressed between his teeth. Steve opened his mouth, working it against Tony's skin. And he learned fast – so fast. He took his cues from Tony's sounds and words, and soon had him moaning and twitching helplessly. Then he moved to the second nipple.

 

Tony arched, one hand coming into Steve's blonde hair.

 

“That's it,” he whispered. “Yes, Steve... that... that's good...”

 

He felt Steve smile against his skin, basking in the praise. Then Steve licked his way to the reactor, tongue tracing scar tissue and sensitive skin. Tony gasped helplessly, muscle failing him and body listing towards Steve. Bless him, he caught the billionaire and held him steady, breathing out hot against the reactor.

 

“Tony,” Steve said again. “T-Tony... I... w-want... I want... you.”

 

Tony brought his hands up to cradle Steve's skull, trusting the super soldier to keep him from falling. He tipped Steve's head up, smiling down at him.

 

“You're allowed to,” he said reassuringly, soothingly. “It's okay. It's alright.”

 

“I'm not... q-qu-”

 

“That's a terribly insulting word, Captain,” Tony said, not quite as softly. “And given that it's blindingly obvious you very much _are_ , you should probably stop using it.”

 

“But... I...”

 

“Shh... Steve. You've been gone a long time. It's okay. I mean, I'm not saying it's always easy for people who are gay or bi or whatever, but it's not like it was. No one is going to tar and feather you...”

 

“I... I'm scared,” Steve admitted and Tony's heart broke for him at the honesty and vulnerability.

 

“It's okay, baby. We'll be there for you. All of us.”

 

Steve searched his eyes, smiled like the rising of the sun, then leaned up and kissed him, gentle and easy, in a way that burned soft all the way to Tony's toes and fingertips. His hips shifted again and Steve made a low, chesty sound.

 

“Still cold?” Tony asked, dragging his nose along Steve's hairline.

 

“A little,” Steve answered. “Not as bad. D-deep down.”

 

Tony licked his upper lip.

 

“I can do something about that,” he murmured, hand sliding down Steve's front to curl around his length, stroking slowly.

 

Steve moaned lowly, hips lifting to the touch. He flung an arm across his eyes and Tony chuckled.

 

“Don't hide that pretty face, baby,” he murmured.

 

He shifted his weight, pushing his boxers off and brought their heated flesh together, fingers wrapping around them both. Steve's hips immediately moved, seeking the friction, the heat, the pleasure. Tony's eyelids flickered.

 

Steve brought his hand to Tony's hair again, pulling him down for another kiss. Again, it reached right down to the billionaire's toes, robbing him of his senses, his rational thought.

 

“Steven...” he breathed against the blonde's mouth.

 

“No one calls me that,” Steve whispered, breath hitching along with his hips.

 

“I call you that when we're naked together,” Tony replied. “When I intend to be... what was it you said...? Deep down.”

 

“Deep down?” Steve echoed on a gasp.

 

“Mmm... I'll show you,” Tony said softly.

 

His weight disappeared and Steve bemoaned it, the ache between his legs so unbearable that he brought his own hand to it.

 

Tony made a low sound when he turned back and caught sight of the blonde, all flexing muscle and uninhibited desire and pleasure. He drank it in. If he never had this chance again, he wanted to remember it.

 

Steve became aware of his gaze and flushed, drawing his hand away.

 

“Tony...” he said pleadingly. “T-Tony...”

 

Tony came to the bed, sliding once more over the blonde.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Tony asked softly, one hand sliding down to ease Steve's legs apart and settle between them.

 

“No...” Steve admitted. “No, but... I'm s-still cold. I need... You're so warm and I n-need... you. Tony, I need you.”

 

Tony nodded, kissing him gently again.

 

“Have you done this before?” Tony asked, uncapping the tube he'd retrieved and squeezing a liberal amount of its contents onto his fingers.

 

Steve shook his head.

 

“You know I-”

 

“I meant with a girl.”

 

Again, Steve shook his head and Tony reeled at the news. He couldn't believe it. What, was Steve _actively_ turning them away or something?!

 

“Don't look at me l-like that,” Steve said. “I c-came back from the ice and th-then there was Loki and then I was C-Captain America again and n-next thing I know some weird s-squid is terrorising South America, then there's a d-dragon and-”

 

“I get it. I get it. I just... I would have thought... while you were away...”

 

Steve shook his head.

 

“It's h-hard to talk to s-someone when all the popular c-culture references you know are s-seventy years old and h-half the c-current ones you find of-offensive.”

 

Tony chuckled.

 

“I suppose so,” he said.

 

He moved his hand down, curling his arm around Steve's thigh and under to rub his slicked fingertips against the super soldier's entrance. Steve tensed, but a low moan eased from his throat.

 

“Relax, baby. Relax, Steven,” Tony soothed. “I got you.”

 

“You... k-keep saying that...” Steve whispered, biting his lower lip and pressing one hand to Tony's shoulder.

 

“'Cause it's true. I'm right here. And I've got you. And I'll warm you right back up again. All the way in.”

 

His voice was low, rough and husky in a way that Steve felt deep in his gut. It wasn't a tone he was used to from the billionaire, but he liked it. Tony glanced down between them to orient himself, then he pressed a finger into Steve. The super soldier's fingers tightened a little against his shoulder, and he hoped for a moment he wouldn't forget himself and crush it. Then Steve arched, his head pressing back into the pillow and _every fucking muscle_ flexing down his torso, and Tony couldn't think of anything other than how bad he wanted him.

 

Careful, he was so careful, wanting to be one-hundred-and-ten percent sure Steve would enjoy the whole process. He worked the single digit gently inside of Steve, giving him time to relax, to become acclimated. When Steve's whimpering became more pleading, he added a second finger and Steve's other hand came to his own thigh, pressing and flexing.

 

“T-Tony...” Steve stammered, and the billionaire was pretty sure it no longer had anything to do with cold.

 

“Easy, baby. Easy, Cap,” Tony murmured, drawing his fingers out.

 

Steve clutched at him, as though afraid he was going to up and leave. He chuckled, nuzzling into the blonde's damp hairline. One hand slid up the underside of Steve's thigh, easing it around his hip. He coated his fingers again, this time slicking his length. He shifted his weight slightly, drawing Steve's leg a little higher.

 

Steve shuddered as Tony began to enter him, back arching and he groaned the billionaire's name again. His breathing came in harsh, short little pants, trembling in and out of him.

 

“Relax, Steven. Relax, baby. It'll be much easier if you relax...”

 

Steve tried to listen, heat and pleasure and pain all melding in a confusing, amazing mix. He consciously relaxed his body and Tony had to grin. He didn't know anyone else who had that much control over themselves.

 

When Tony had entered Steve completely, he paused, waiting as patiently as he could manage for Steve's body to relax. He watched the man's breathing slow a little, calming from its ragged, short breaths, watched his pretty, pretty chest rise and fall, watched his throat flex and his eyelids flutter.

 

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered, bending to drag his nose and lips gently up Steve's throat to his jaw. “So beautiful.”

 

Steve knew he was speaking, but he had no idea what he was saying. He seemed to have lost the ability to comprehend speech. And he certainly couldn't produce it, he realised when he tried to say 'please' and just got a needy whine instead. Tony seemed to understand though, as he began to move his hips, shallow at first, then deeper and slower, each roll intense and focussed, pressing them together from hips to chest.

 

What was left of the deathly cold dissipated slowly, each thrust chipping away at it until there was nothing left but the heat of Tony Stark. Steve clung to him, wrapped securely around him, still leeching what he could, not because he had to, but because he _liked_ it. He _wanted_ it. He _craved_ it. He'd been cold for so long, alone and adrift in the ocean of the twenty-first century like a lump of iceberg broken off from the Antarctic shelves.

 

“Tony,” he found himself whispering soon. “Tony, Tony, Tony...”

 

“I'm here,” Tony kept saying. “I got you. It's okay, Steven. I got you.”

 

Steve tried to keep the sounds bubbling up from his chest behind his teeth, but he couldn't. And Tony kept murmuring to him not to fight it. Soon he was moaning and crying out with almost every roll of Tony's hips. It began to pluck away at Tony's control and his pace increased. Steve only clutched harder and moaned louder.

 

It was so good. So good, Steve couldn't think of words to describe it. He didn't think it could get any better, but then Tony wrapped his hand around the blonde's length and it _did_ . Oh, did it ever. He didn't last long after that. Soon, his body bowed, lifting almost clear of the sofabed and he cried out Tony's name with his release.  
  
Tony purred low, repeating his full name over and over again. He thrust just a few more times, then he, too, was crying out.

 

By the time Tony came back to himself, Steve was already dozing, his brush with death and their subsequent activities taking their toll. Tony carefully moved off him, going to get a warm cloth so he could clean them both off, then he climbed back into bed. Steve immediately wrapped around him, folding into him even in his sleep.

 

Life and truth and worry tried to nag at the back of Tony's mind, but he didn't let it, instead drifting off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

_Stark Tower, New York. 11.11 pm, Monday Night._

 

Steve twitched awake with a gasp, fighting his way clear of a nightmare filled with ice. Instinctively, he burrowed closer to the warmth beside him and it shifted, sliding one muscled arm more tightly around Steve's body.

 

He stilled, sucking in a short breath and his eyes snapped open.

 

Tony was stretched out on his side, that one strong arm curled around him just below his chest. For a long moment, he couldn't remember how they'd gotten there, then it all came flooding back.

 

He blushed, right down to his toes, and started to slide carefully out from under Tony's arm. But the billionaire tightened his grip.

 

“Oh, no, Cap,” he said, surprisingly alert. “You're not running off while I'm still asleep.”

 

His blushing intensified.

 

“I wasn't-”

 

“Yeah, you were,” Tony said, his eyes slitting open. He grinned. “But I'll forgive you. This time.”

 

It wasn't hard to feel forgiving with aaall that muscle laid out before him, Tony reflected. And Steve's leg flexed between his own. De _ light _ ful.

 

Tony propped himself up on one elbow, studying Steve's embarrassed, confused face. His fingertips traced absently at defined pecs.

 

“Tony... I don't...” he said haltingly, but trailed off, shaking his head.

 

“It's al-”

 

“No. No, it isn't,” Steve cut across him. “You have a girlfriend. And I... I'm not... qu-”

 

“Don't use that word, Cap. It's not an accepted term. It's derogatory. And besides, it's bull shit, because clearly you have  _ some _ sort of homosexual leanings, at least.”

 

Steve blushed and glanced away.

 

“I don't...” he started to say, then trailed off. Could he really take that high road when only seven or eight hours ago he'd been firmly wrapped around Tony? No. No, he was too honest for that. He frowned hard instead.

 

“There's nothing to be ashamed of, Steve,” Tony said softly.

 

“There is one thing,” Steve argued.

 

Tony blinked at him.

 

“Lots of people are gay, Steve. It's-”

 

“I'm not talking about that,” Steve muttered, although it wasn't exactly like he was comfortable with it. “I'm talking about  _ Pepper _ .”

 

Tony fell silent. He glanced away.

 

“Well,” he said. “Well. That. Um.”

 

“Ex _ act _ ly,” Steve said grimly. Now he pulled away from Tony for real, sliding off the fold-out bed and standing. He fished around for his shorts, then with as much dignity as he could muster, said tightly; “I'm going back to my room.”

 

Tony blinked at him, cleared his throat.

 

“Okay. I'll. Um. I'll see you later.”

 

Steve nodded shortly and headed up.

 

Tony dragged his hand through his hair and sighed.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Stark Tower, New York. 10.27 am Tuesday Morning._

 

Steve had not called them for a briefing regarding the Cerberus, which was odd, given his almost compulsive need to dissect every battle they had and figure out what they could do better next time.

 

Tony didn't mind. He would use the time instead to figure out why these things were suddenly surfacing. 'Waking up', Thor called it.

 

Thor was there, his indolent little brother poking things in the corner of Tony's lab. Tony really wished he wouldn't do that, but he valued Thor's insights into this business, him being the only one who had dealt with mythical-scale creatures before.

 

“Hey. Hey, you. Don't touch that!” Tony said, throwing Dum-E's ball at Loki's head. It bounced off and the robot chased after it.

 

Loki glared at him hard.

 

He glared back.

 

Thor sighed.

 

“Loki, please be a well-mannered guest and leave things alone,” he said tiredly.

 

Tony peered at him.

 

“How does this shit work?” he wondered.

 

Thor shrugged.

 

“It is deep magic,” he said. “Beyond my ken, or even Loki's. We cannot break it. It will need to be removed by the seers.”

 

“Funtimes,” Tony said dryly.

 

“There is nothing fun about this,” Thor said, bland.

 

“No, it was... oh, never mind. Do these sorts of creatures sleep in all lands and dimensions?”

 

“Aye,” Thor said, shifting on the stool he was perched on. “But they only awaken when the people there prove themselves ready for such epic battles and deeds. I fear it was because of us that these ones are now rising.”

 

Tony shook his head.

 

“No, there's something else going on,” he said. “There are small concussions, vibrations, registering on my devices well before any of these creatures are waking. Something is waking them up.”

 

Thor frowned.

 

“Waking them up? But it is only through natural magic that this can occur.”

 

“Yeah, well. I don't think there's any 'natural magic' involved here. I think it's a machine. The vibrations are like some of the concussion bombs my Dad was looking into way back when. Ones that didn't actually have explosives, but destroyed things just through wave of sound. He abandoned the idea in the end, because it was taking too long, and the technology didn't exist yet. A bit like the vibranium...” He tapped his fingernails absently against his reactor.

 

Turning back to his monitors he said;

 

“Jarvis, bring up the remaining monitoring centers and re-calibrate their sensors. I want to see if we can figure out what this thing is the next time it goes off.”

 

“As you wish, Sir,” Jarvis replied. The AI was silent for a long time while Tony tinkered and Thor played Pong on a holographic screen. Eventually; “Re-calibration complete, Sir.”

 

Tony grunted.

 

After another companionable silence, he said;

 

“How long are you guys staying?”

 

“As long as this crisis lasts,” Thor muttered. “I feel we are responsible, even if you say we are not.”

 

“I've personally no wish to return to Asgard at any moment,” Loki put in.

 

Tony looked over at him, then pointedly ignored him and looked away again.

 

The conversation ebbed and flowed, between Tony and Thor mostly, though Loki seemed to feel a need to add snide remarks whenever the chance arose.

 

“ _Sir,”_ Jarvis said sometime later.  _ “Captain Rogers is on his way.” _

 

Tony opened his mouth, about to ask Jarvis why he felt the need to give Tony a heads up, when the workshop was unlocked and open to all at present. But a sudden nervousness and uncertainty overtook him and he was very glad of his AI's intuitive nature.

 

Thor was intuitive as well.

 

“Come, Loki,” he said. “I fear Captain Rogers is yet to accept your presence easily.”

 

Indeed, they passed in the hallway, and while Steve greeted Thor warmly, he didn't even look at Loki.

 

His smile, when he hit the workshop, was shy and uncertain and altogether so adorable Tony wanted to strip him naked on the spot.

 

“Steve,” he purred.

 

“Tony,” Steve replied in a far more normal voice. Although having said that, purring for Tony was pretty normal.

 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Tony wondered. And he meant it. It was a decided pleasure.

 

Steve must have just showered. His hair was damp, hanging in his eyes and clinging to his forehead. As usual, his shirt was just a little to tight. He tended towards white and black and grey and today was no exception. Dove grey, Tony would have called it. The engineer made a mental note to get Jarvis to find Steve some brighter shirts.

 

Steve cleared his throat and Tony blinked, dragging his eyes up. Right. Staring at a man's chest tantamount to staring at a woman's boobs. Not that it was his fault Steve chose to show it off so readily...

 

Wait.

 

He frowned a little, finally noting Steve's stance, how he was poised, at the ready like when they sparred, or when he laid down a plan for them just before a fight. He didn't have his shield, but his arm sort of hovered, like he was protecting himself nonetheless.

 

“Steve... did you come here expecting a fight?” Tony asked when Steve didn't actually venture any words.

 

“A... no,” Steve said, dropping his arm to his side and shifting his weight so that he was in more of a soldier's at ease position. Not that it seemed any more relaxed. Then he folded his arms across his chest, and Tony  _ knew _ that for the self-defensive movement it was.

 

“Really? I'm not convinced.”

 

Steve cleared his throat and looked away, then back to Tony again.

 

“Last night...”

 

Tony kept his face neutral, years and years of press appearances enabling the expression when in truth he wanted to grin or smirk or frown or narrow his eyes or  _ something _ .

 

“Yes?” he said. Flat. Detached.

 

Steve frowned.

 

Maybe flat and detached wasn't such a good idea...

 

“That's all you can say?” he said shortly.

 

“I don't actually know what we're discussing,” he said. He didn't mean to be obtuse, but he knew that statement was a little, and now Steve was scowling. Dammit.

 

“Last night. We're discussing what happened last night. You. Me. That... uh...  _ business _ .”

 

He was too adorable. It wasn't fair. Tony's mouth twitched.

 

“You mean that fucking?” he said, the purr so obvious even Steve with his prudish forties ways couldn't miss it.

 

The super soldier's face flamed as red as the outside ring of his shield.

 

“Right. Yeah. Yes. That.”

 

“What about it, Steve? Clarify this for me.”

 

“Have... you told anyone?”

 

Tony's eyes narrowed a little.

 

“Is that what you're worried about? Your precious apple-pie reputation?” he said. Okay, that was a little defensive, but the man had left in the middle of the night, only to turn up just shy of twelve hours later to, what? Find out if Tony had outed him?

 

“No! I mean... yes... I mean.” Steve dragged his hand through his hair. “I gotta work this out,” he said helplessly. “This...” He gestured between them. “Thing. I've never... done that with a man... and I never thought I wanted to... I just... I need to know I'm gonna have the time to figure it out without you... breaking the news to the team.”

 

Tony pressed his lips together, nails drumming an absent rhythm on his reactor. He supposed he got that, and it was fair enough. Besides, he needed to do some figuring out himself. Namely, what the fuck was going on and what was he supposed to say to Pepper?

 

“I'm not going to out you, Steve,” he sighed eventually, turning away with a spin of his swivel-stool. “You don't need to worry.”

 

Silence for a long moment then; “Okay. Thanks, Tony... And... and thanks for saving my life.”

 

Tony smiled.

 

“Any time, Cap. It was my pleasure.”

 

He knew without looking that Steve would be blushing again.

 

“It can't happen again, Tony. It won't. We're team mates. It's too complicated.”

 

Tony twisted his hand through the air and Jarvis gave him a 3D representation of the suit he'd used to save Steve, which he was currently working on. He enlarged it and began plucking bits off and adding things on.

 

“Of course, Steve. Naturally.”

 

“Tony-”

 

“Don't you have a report to write?”

 

He was silent in his departure, only the quiet hiss of the door giving him away.

 

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, fingers and thumb spreading out to rub at his closed eyelids. He didn't know why the declaration bothered him so much when he hadn't expected anything else.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Stark Tower, New York. 3:48 pm Thursday Afternoon._

 

Steve had tried many things over the past couple of days to get his mind off of Tony and uncomfortable conversation they'd had, but nothing much had worked. Running, the gym, writing his report, watching television with Clint and Natasha, eating companionably with Bruce...

 

All the time he found his thoughts straying back to that night. The heat of it, of Tony, pushing away the cold, and not just the cold that had come from the Cerberus.

 

He felt bad that he was  _ pleased _ when a distress call came in.

 

This one didn't come from Xander, which was unusual. He hadn't predicted it through Tony's instruments. Instead, they got a garbled message that gave them virtually no clues, except that the problem was at a fun park in a place called Hirakata in Japan.

 

He put the assemble call through Jarvis, and soon they were all on the quinjet, Tony having an angry conversation with Xavier. Eventually, he irritably switched off the blue tooth in his helmet and looked around at them.

 

“I never put any monitors in Japan,” he said with a shrug. “Tremors and earthquakes there all the time. I didn't know there was anything unusual.”

 

“And yet, you yelled at Xavier for like... fifteen minutes when it wasn't his fault at  _ all _ ,” Clint pointed out from the front.

 

“Eh. Kid needs yelling at sometimes.”

 

Clint snorted.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Hirakata, Osaka Prefecture. 6:25 am Friday Morning._

 

“Osaka?” Natasha was saying as they coasted in over Osaka Bay and across the city. “No one said anything about Osaka!”

 

“It's part of Osaka,” Clint said, glancing at the GPS in the quinjet.

 

“Oh, fantastic. So only about a million people should die...” Natasha said dryly.

 

“Not if we can help it,” Steve muttered, pulling his cowl on.

 

“Holy shit,” Clint said, eyes widening as he looked down at Hirakata. More specifically, Hirakata Park.

 

The place was the usual twist of rollercoaster rails that one associated with these sorts of fun parks, but something new had been added to the architecture – web. There was no mistaking it. Strands of thick, sticky silk had been spun between the rollercoasters, and sitting right in the middle was a spider of apocalyptic proportions.

 

“Jarvis?” Tony asked.

 

“ _Probability indicates Jorogumo._ _ Jorogumo is a type of Yōkai, a creature, ghost or goblin of Japanese folklore. According to some stories, a Jorogumo is a spider that can change its appearance into that of a seductive woman. _

 

_In Japanese Kanji, Jorogumo is written in characters literally meaning "binding bride” or in characters literally meaning "whore spider". Jorogumo can also refer to some species of spiders, but in casual use it can refer to the Nephila and Argiope spiders. Japanese-speaking entomologists use the katakana form of Jorogumo to refer, exclusively, to the spider species Nephila clavata.”_

 

“Whore spider,” Loki said when Tony had relayed this to them, his smirk all over his face. “Charming. It seems she would get on smashingly with your own Black Widow.”

 

“Watch it,” Steve said through his teeth.

 

“Aye, you should 'watch it', as the Captain says,” Thor remarked. “I should not put it past our own Black Widow to relieve you of your manhood and thence force you to eat it.”

 

Natasha smirked dangerously.

 

“Wait a minute,” Bruce said. “Nowhere does that say the thing is gigantic. How can it be the right information?”

 

“ _I did not say it was definitely this creature. I said_ probability indicates _ ,” _ Jarvis pointed out aloofly. 

 

Tony snickered.

 

“He's aware of the discrepancies, he always is,” Tony said. “But if this is the... er... definition he's given us, then it's the closest thing.”

 

Quite suddenly, the Quinjet's engines began to whine and the craft listed sharply to one side, throwing Steve against Tony, whose inertial dampers had kicked in automatically, Loki against Thor, whose balance was like that of a cat and Natasha against Bruce, who was the only one sitting down strapped in other than Clint.

 

“Heads up, people!” Clint helped. “She got us!”

 

The Jorogumo had spat sticky venom at the bottom of the jet, blocking the airflow to two of the engines.

 

When one burst into flame while Clint wrestled with the controls, they didn't waste any more time.

 

Clint opened the hatch and Bruce unbuckled himself once he'd set Nat on her feet. Steve had already leapt from the jet, close enough to the taller buildings thanks to the downwards progress of their craft to land safely. Tony caught Bruce around the waist and was the next to leap out, followed by Thor and Loki - “I could fly on my own if you would unbind my powers!” “I trust you not well enough at present!” - and finally Natasha and Clint, who caught hands on the way down, once Clint had fired one of his rappelling arrows from his bow.

 

The jet crashed into one of the rollercoasters with a massive gout of flame, but none of them paid it any attention.

 

Once they were all safely on the building, they formed up around Steve.

 

“Don't step on the web if you can avoid it,” he started with. “Spiders sense their prey's position that way.”

 

“Not to mention the sticking issue,” Clint said dryly.

 

Steve nodded.

 

“Tony, stay in the air. I know it's a big ask, but try to keep its attention on you so the rest of us can get close. Clint, I want you up on one of those rollercoasters. The highest one. Let us know what it's doing if we can't see it happening, and keep an eye out for civilians. Thor, try not to use lightning. We don't know if that web stuff is conductive.”

 

“Is it likely to be?” Tony said with a frown. “It's not metal.”

 

Steve shrugged.

 

“Bruce, maybe you can take a look at that?”

 

He nodded.

  
  
“Would be able to give you a better idea if I had some instruments, but I'll try since I'd rather not...” He trailed off and gestured a bit and Steve nodded. “Not with all these people around.”

 

Another nod and Steve glanced at Natasha.

 

“You and I will stay on the ground for now, Nat. We can't get to it without risking getting stuck. Tony and Thor can take us in later if needs be, but for now, civilian patrol.”

 

She nodded.

 

“I?” Loki asked.

 

“Stay out of trouble,” Steve replied coolly and began clambering down the building.

 

Loki scowled.

 

Thor laughed and lifted his hammer, catching Loki's hand and leaping into the air.

 

“You know this is a dreadful way to travel!” Loki cried.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_?, ?. 4.05 pm Thursday Afternoon._

 

The Trumpeter's foot bounced on its toes with jittery excitement as he watched the Avengers take on the giant spider. It creeped him out, but hopefully that meant it would creep the team out as well.

 

He cheered like a football fan when one massive, hairy leg swept across the sky, swiping Iron Man aside like a fly. The red and gold suit smashed into one of the nearby roller coasters, sending debris flying left and right. Iron Man was still for a long moment, then he rolled over in the twisted metal of the roller coaster frame, struggled to his feet and shot off again.

 

The Trumpeter groaned.

 

He remembered well how long it had taken The Avengers to gain cohesion, but now that they had it, they were like a well-oiled machine. Even the friction Thor's brother's presence seemed to be causing didn't have an affect on how they fought and worked together in a situation like this. They covered each other's blind spots and alerted each other constantly about possible attacks or positioning.

 

With Hawkeye perched above the battlefield, relaying what he saw to Captain America, they were always in the right places at the right times, the man's massive combat brain sifting through scenarios and coming up with plans instantaneously.

 

Clearly, he was going to have to fight smarter, not harder...

 

\- - - - - - -

 

_Hirakata, Osaka Prefecture. 6:43 am Friday Morning._

 

“ _At least the park wasn't open,”_ Clint said flippantly over the comms as another reel of roller coaster track whipped across the battlefield, such as it was, forcing Steve to leap dramatically out of the way, much to the glee of the crowd he was trying to corral, who seemed intent on filming everything instead of getting the hell out of the way.

 

“ _There would have been so many_ more _ of them!” _

 

Steve grunted, but Clint was right. If it hadn't been so early, the number of spectators would have risen exponentially. As it was, people were posting videos online and others were beginning to arrive to watch.

 

“ _We have to get this done fast,”_ Steve said tightly.

 

“ _Loki believes he could possibly freeze the feet in place,”_ Thor offered.

 

Steve didn't answer. A long moment passed. Clint swore across the comms as the spider swept one great leg against the roller coaster he was perched on, rocking his balance precariously.

 

“Alright,” Steve muttered eventually. “Alright, do it.”

 

\- - - - - - -

 

Only Thor could hear it, but Loki laughed, elated with this permission.

 

“Bring me down and in, brother,” he said eagerly. “Unfetter my magic.”

 

“I shall unfetter it when we are close enough, and not before,” Thor growled, guiding them through the air in a wide circle around the beast.

 

“There,” Loki said grimly, pointing. The spider was turning, one leg splayed far out from its body as it ponderously moved its bulk. Thor nodded and arced downwards, releasing his hold on Loki's magic as he did so.

 

Quick flickers of elegant fingers struck the air around the hairy foot to sudden cold, the moisture in the air snap-freezing, and Loki pushed it harder yet, until a thick chunk of ice had formed over the foot.

 

The spider wrenched at the leg, but could not move it.

 

Clint crowed in triumph, flashing a thumbs up in their direction, but they weren't done, and the spider was wheeling around, seeking the source of its discomfort.

 

Thor dipped under the huge body towards another foot and Loki set to work on that one too.

 

Once he had pinned four of the eight legs, it became easier for the others to attack the thing. Clint began to move around the roller coasters, avoiding the spider web, working his way to where he would be able fire arrows at the eyes.

 

Tony worked in underneath it, firing again and again at the underbelly. Even Steve was able to clamber up a roller coaster framework and fling his shield with deadly precision, slicing off yet another leg.

 

They turned the tide rapidly and with ease after that and the spider was soon crashing to the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> I researched my butt off for this fic. From myths and legends to time differences and climates and scientific theories. However, I don't profess to be an expert on any of it. So if there are mistakes... point them out kindly and I'll fix them.
> 
> Anything Jarvis quotes about mythological creatures come from Wikipedia, just like he says. I use "The World Clock" for my time differences. Climate, terrain, country and city information comes from pretty much anywhere I can find on Google that suits my needs.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. There's more to come.


End file.
